SCREAM
by noneofyourbusiness885858838
Summary: Troy Bolton is the coolest guy in school. He's known to have no weakness until Gabriella Montez comes into his life and breaks down all his walls. He finds himself telling her his darkest secrets, secrets that could rip his renowned reputation to shreds.
1. Prologue

**GABRIELLA**

"Mr. Baylor, I'd really enjoy it if you would pay attention in my class instead of talking to Mr. Bolton the entire time."

Ms. Darbus' voice was so thick; you'd think it may have frightened them just a bit.

Zeke whipped his head around from Troy, a rather egotistical grin spreading across his lips.

"I'm so sorry Ms. Darbus." From the sarcasm and the smirk, it was evident he wasn't.

I rolled my eyes and looked over to one of my best friends, Kelsi Nielsen. She wore the same, annoyed frown on her face that I did. We were the good students, and having to deal with these imbeciles during our drama class wasn't exactly enlightening.

Ms. Darbus disregarded Zeke and moved back to her lecture, continuing on her powerful speech about Shakespeare.

I had my notebook out and I was scribbling down notes. I was probably the only one in the class doing this. Even Kelsi had her focus approached on something else – Ryan Evans.

My eyes subtly snapped back to the front of the room where the rather bombastic athletes all sat. They were all snickering and whispering to each other, most-likely making fun of Ms. Darbus. It seemed ridiculous how she let them go on making such brainless comments.

Everybody in this school seemed to know who they were, and I'm not kidding when I say _everybody_.

I wasn't judgmental, nor was I simple-minded. Had one of them spoke with me, I would have eagerly spoken back. However, that had never happened, so the thought never actually crossed my mind. I was more into my studies.

I was actually dedicated, driven to get a proper education. I figured the point of having school was more to have a rather successful life, not to become head of the "cool" department.

I wasn't cool anyways - just the geeky science girl.

They sat with grins on their faces.

Troy Bolton was their main squeeze. It seemed that the other basketball players just followed him, obediently. I never spoke with him in my life, I've only heard about him one million times from other girls.

Everybody loved him; he was like the light to a dark room. His hair was a dark brown, molded into some kind of mop. It was messy, probably didn't take much to make it lay the way it did. His eyes were bright blue and at the moment, they seemed elated by his friend's comments. His smile, well, charming and alluring was all. He polished himself so broadly – his hands lazily placed behind his head, heedless to the teacher's lecture. He wore a t-shirt that fit him well, and a pair of pants that hugged his legs and behind. (I think they're straight-legged?) Oh, and I couldn't possibly forget about his vans, the shoes he was known to always be sporting.

Yes, I sound very descriptive. I just have a photographic memory, that's all.

Chad Danforth sat behind him, whispering things into his ear, obviously the reason Troy was even laughing to begin with. I could tell Ms. Darbus knew it was him causing the noise. By now, it was as if she just was ignoring them. Chad had a darker skin tone. His hair was hard to describe – a bundle of tangled yet natural tawny curls. His eyes were a chocolate brown. He wore a yellow and black striped polo and a pair of beige-colored pants.

Zeke was at Troy's corner. His skin tone matched Chad's, but his hair was buzzed in a rather militant way. His eyes were an anxious brown. He wore a gray t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He was slanting towards Troy and Chad, intent on hearing their joke, or whatever.

Meanwhile, my best friend, Kelsi, was ogling out my other best friend, Ryan, who was at the far end of the room, looking rather drained and bored by Ms. Darbus' lecture.

Ryan had flaxen-colored hair that barely stood up, but had a small spike to it, and green-blue eyes. Wearing a long-sleeved red, orange, white, and maroon striped shirt and a pair of jeans; it wasn't hard to pinpoint him in the crowd. His eyes were only inclined in displeasure. This was rather surprising since he was always so excited about Ms. Darbus' lectures. Call him a brainiac, he was just like me.

I myself became restless. That didn't happen very often.

My eyes averted towards the window, in seek for some escape. I liked school to a certain point. I appreciated getting good grades and everything, but it was all the same, every single day. I longed for something interesting – for something new. I had everything I really needed in life. I had a great home life, my parents had a lot of money, I had great friends and everything. . .

Still, I couldn't shake the sudden urge to do something out of line sometime soon.

Yes, you know, step out from being invisible? I didn't want to go and perform at the school's talent show or anything incredulous like that. I just wanted to do something different, something _bizarre_.

Kelsi and I walked out of drama class as the bell rang. I held my books to my chest, protectively, as she voiced her opinions on Darbus' wonderful, inspirational lecture.

"It was boring, _again_. I thought drama would be fun, but she just makes it kind of dull. . ."

"I'm sure it'll get better." I told her, buoyantly, as Ryan caught up to us, hastily.

"Women, women, there you are." He grinned as he squirmed in between us, pulling his lankly arms around us.

"It's so wonderful, being in Ms. Darbus' class, don't you agree?"

"Yeah, starts my day off wonderfully." Kelsi joked with a small smile.

Her face seemed to light up as she met his eyes. The magic connection they had seemed unbeatable.

"I'm just glad they moved me away from my sister, and those annoying basketball players." Ryan cringed a bit, and we just chuckled.

"Seriously, one day, they're going to wake up and realize the future actually _matters_."

"When all hell freezes over, maybe they will." Kelsi tucked a loose curl of chestnut behind her ear, guiltlessly as we continued walking down the hallway.

Of course, to our misfortune, we were walking passed the basketball players we had just been talking about.

Zeke's eyes immediately found Ryan, as if they were laughing at him.

A look of recognition appeared throughout his face, and his look suddenly turned smug, "Hey look, it's Pinocchio, you guys."

All their heads turned, and the majority of them snickered as Ryan tried to hide his look of shame. Kelsi only grimaced at them and I felt the need to say something back to Zeke. However, without the dignity and the charisma, I simply just grabbed him by the arms and comfortingly pushed him away from them.

"Aw, what, sweet cheeks is ruining the party? Damn, girl, don't be such a spoiled egg, we was just joking. . ." Zeke yelled out to me as we walked away.

They laughed as they were walking away, the type of laughter that people usually cry from.

I rolled my eyes as we approached my locker.

I looked to Ryan, who still looked angry, "Ryan, don't listen to them, they're so immature."

"I know, it's just that Zeke. . . I could kill him."

"I know, I know, but they're not even worth a second glance." I told him, looking to Kelsi, who just shook her head, obviously disgusted by them also.

"Yeah, gosh, I'm being stupid about this." Ryan's angry expression faltered. "I keep reminding myself that they're failures and that they're heartless."

Unlike most guys, he had a rather sensitive side to him, and I think that's what got them all to pick on him.

"Ah, forget them; let's talk about something else. . ." Kelsi's eyes wandered to me, a look of inquisition on her face.

"Gabriella, what's new with you?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid." I bit my bottom lip, "I kind of hate that."

"Hmm. . . Yeah, I guess they're offering new parts to the musicale this year. I was going to participate, and then I heard that Sharpay Evans was. I don't stand a chance against someone like her."

Ryan snorted, "My sister? My sister is so lights, sound, action. . . she can't sing without props and music in the background. You're a natural."

A smile faintly appeared on his lips while saying this.

Kelsi seemed beholden, but still had a look of uncertainty on her face, "Yeah, I guess she's kind of like that. It just seems like every year Darbus gives it to her. This school is so cliché, it's almost agitating."

"Tell me about it. I've been here for two years; I figured junior year would be a lot more exciting than _this_." I mumbled.

"Every day those kids steal our seats, every day we listen in Darbus' class, every day Zeke says something to Ryan, and every day I find myself wishing I could fly to a different state that's not always brown. Seriously, I need _adventure_."

"I just need some excitement, you know? Even they seem more satisfied with their lives, and they're completely flunking out!" I heaved, my eyes reciting over towards the athletes who were gathered at Troy's locker from afar.

"You are so right, it's almost unbelievable. We are boring." Ryan supported, suddenly looking completely stunned.

"This isn't acceptable; we have to do something to prove that we aren't lame, that we can have a good time too! They can't win this; they just can't, not this time!"

I raised my eyebrow, as did Kelsi, "Ryan, that was way overdramatic, and this isn't a battle. Let's just do something crazy, let's. . ."

"Kill someone?" Kelsi piped in, furrowing her eyebrows.

"No! Nothing like that, something endearing, yet so crazy. . ."

Something was building up inside me, some kind of energy, elation.

"Um, join the basketball team?" My eyes fixated on Ryan with a look of shock.

"Are you _joking_? There's not even a girls' basketball team, it's all guys. . ."

The idea sounded out of this world insane, almost like a death sentence, but at the same time, I was intrigued.

"Gabriella, why are you looking at me like that? I didn't even mean that, I was just kidding, I definitely don't want to, no."

Ryan suddenly looked horrified, as did Kelsi.

"Well, I'm extremely out of shape, and gym's not helping much. Also, this may just be our extra curricular activity to college."

My eyes lit up ecstatically. I couldn't help myself; this could help with college immensely!

"I could make it into Harvard with no doubt now." I grinned, wildly, "Imagine me, the Academic Scholar who completely tore off the basketball hoop with my mad skills."

"Gabriella, please, you need to reconsider what you're thinking here, I mean, if we had a Sanitarium, I would take you there right now. This is completely absurd. For one, you and Kelsi are girls; Coach wouldn't allow that, for two, are you _blind_? Zeke would shoot me with a rifle, had I stepped foot in that locker room."

Ryan was shaking his head frenetically and losing his self-control.

I couldn't back down now, I was exhilarated.

"_No_, Ryan. They will respect you, because you will be so much better than them. We will rock that basketball court and send the wildcats to the tournament. They'll be so hyped about us winning, they'll love you, and you'll become one of them! We'll be popular!"

"Gabriella, Ryan's right, Coach is definitely going to say no to us. They don't even have a girls' team, and you know that Troy and Chad are the captains of that team. They would give us a mouthful if we step in."

Kelsi seemed as determined as Ryan that this was a repulsive idea.

"You guys have no gull!" I exclaimed.

"I understand you think that this will get you into Harvard, I mean, that's a huge possibility, but Gabriella, I'm pretty sure they're going to let you in there anyways. This won't be much of a change – it'll just result in a bruise across my eye."

"Can't you at least give this a shot?"

I was now sounding desperate. They knew as well as I did that this didn't stand a chance. I was speaking erratically and none of it was making sense. Yes, I was quite aware of that. It sounded so delightful, so different. I almost saw a giant hoop with fireworks around it in my head.

Giving those pleading eyes and a desolate frown, they seemed to be giving in. Kelsi seemed more responsive than Ryan; Ryan seemed dead-set with no.

"Well, we could at least see if we could, couldn't we?"

Kelsi looked to Ryan, a look of expectance in her eyes.

He seemed hypnotized by them, but still, shook his head, stubbornly, "Gosh, this is so stupid, they all hate me, they probably don't like you either!"

"We won't talk to them, and if they start anything with you, we'll talk to the coach. Come _on_, Ryan, we're all in this together." I persuaded, eagerly.

"_Fine_, but I'll be damned if that coach actually lets us on the team. I'll also be damned if I don't get a black eye the first day of practice." Ryan sighed.

I guess it was kind of moronic what we were doing. I was just too careless to realize it. I was desperate for some kind of change, some alternation. My life was too predictable. Basketball couldn't have been for me, could it have? I was doubtful on that. I was horrible with sports, my coordination was always off. I was clumsy, awkward, and slow to learn them. I had no idea how I was going to do this. I had no idea how I was going to talk to the coach, either.

* * *

We were waiting afterschool at his office for him. Sure, the season had already started; he probably had enough spots already. We were being so stupid, so ignorant. I mentally kicked myself for the dumb idea in the first place.

I shouldn't have taken Ryan seriously.

The coach came in finally. His name was Coach Lautner. After Troy's father quit being the coach here, we had to get a new one. Why he quit, nobody ever mentioned, but the new coach was apparently much stricter.

He walked in like he belonged to the military – his stance uptight and whatnot. I felt intimidated by his very presence. I couldn't imagine what it was like being on his basketball team. The others looked just as uneasy as I did.

"Yes?"

He didn't exactly display that he was in the mood for conversation. He seemed aggravated if anything.

His hair was a light brown with gray patches noticeable. Wrinkles of age were engraved throughout his pallid-colored skin. He seemed older than Coach Bolton, much older. He wore a pair of basketball shorts and a Wildcats t-shirt. It was almost as if he was holding a practice right now.

"We were wondering if you have any more spots on the team." My voice was shaky and I was trembling with fear as I spoke to him.

I'm amazed my knees didn't give away and I didn't fall to the ground like a complete moron.

"For who?"

He raised an eyebrow, listlessly.

"Um, us, sir. . ."

I looked down to the floor, all nerves.

"_You_?" I'm surprised he didn't burst out laughing – it seemed he wanted to, as he wheezed uncontrollably.

"Don't you have some chemistry shit to do?" Churlishly he narrowed his eyes at us. "You don't come off as athletes."

Abashed and angered from his comment, I bit my bottom lip, "Excuse me, Mr. Lautner, we are capable of doing everything they are capable of doing." I told him.

"But _why_? You guys could be doing something you're probably actually good at."

"You have Rocket man on the team." The term was simple, and completely changed the coach's expression.

"It'd require a lot of hard work, you know." His eyes had softened but his tone was still rigid.

"I really think that we can help you win the tournament this year." I blurted out like an imbecile and felt the tint of red hit my face immediately.

Ryan and Kelsi's eyes quickly jolted over towards me, glaring daggers at me.

He snickered, "Really, now? Well, that'd make you better then Troy and I don't think that's possible."

He looked away for a second, as if pondering on something.

"Look, I have some room, and we are a bit desperate for good players at the moment." He sighed, as if ashamed for mentioning this.

His eyes moved back to us, "Two weeks." He breathed, "If you all aren't any good by then, you're done."

He grabbed his bag full of things and looked back to us, "Don't fucking let us down." The door slammed.

"What exactly is wrong with you, Gabriella?" Ryan's question seemed rhetorical.

"Two weeks. . . we have to be fantastic basketball players in two weeks. We have to actually go to those practices!"

"Look, this better show up on my record, or else. . ." Ryan gave me maddening eyes.

"It will. . . God, this is going to be great! Can't you feel it? I'm going to Harvard, I really am! I'm going to completely dazzle that school – they're going to want me so much they won't be able to hold it in!"

I was grinning from ear to ear, dancing around the room like a crazy person.

Ryan took my hands as I crazily spun him around in a waltz.

He was giving me berserk glances throughout it though, "Gabriella. . ."

"My legs are going to kill me, you're going to get beaten up so badly, Kelsi's going to pass out from too much running. . . we are so going to bring the wildcats to that tournament, we're going to show those stupid athletes we're more than just smart, we're athletic! We're talented, we're awesome."

Sometimes, I hated my optimism, and others around me did too.

* * *

_End of Prologue_


	2. The Echoes Fill Your Soul

**TROY**

The hot water surged onto my face, erupting steam as well. I could feel my entire body stiffen as the drops of liquid stung certain parts of my body. I breathed in sharply, the pain engulfing me entirely. Fortunately for me, I was potent enough to ignore unbearable amounts of pain.

The locker room was empty. The silence became intimidating. All I could hear was the sound of the shower. I tried to hasten the moment, not wanting to pique at recent scars.

I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist, heading towards my gym locker. I unlocked it and began putting on my dark blue jeans and fitting dark-black t-shirt. I threw on a zip-up, navy-blue hoodie afterwards.

I quickly grabbed my backpack, my hair drenched. I made my way out of the locker room. But I was anything but eager to get out of that school.

I took a step outside. New Mexico was always hot, and you couldn't bare it without a bottle of water at all times. But at night, it was tolerably about forty degrees.

I liked the calmness of the stars, and the beauty of the moon.

All my muscles ached despairingly. My legs felt like they were about to fall off. I could only blame this on running, and basketball. However, my arms, and my chest felt stitched. My back hurt the worst. And my eyes were bloodshot.

I tried to concentrate on something that made me happy. But I couldn't. My brain was half-dead, and I felt emotionless.

I was chewing on my bottom lip as I slid into my piece of shit of a car, just a little reminder of how I don't belong in this world.

I sighed, the nagging at my body just getting worse by the contact with the seat. I set the keys into the ignition, praying to God that the beast would come to life. I drove a truck, sky-blue, but the paint job was fucked. It looked like it had just come out of the junkyard.

Technically, it had.

It roared viciously as it came to life, like a monster of some sort. I just scowled in disgust as I pulled the thing out of the empty parking lot.

At night, East High seemed dead. I'm not kidding when I say dead. It was all so silent. It was too peaceful to be real. Maybe that's why my 'excuse' practices lasted so long.

While on the road, I realized Chad had texted me about ten times, telling me I should come to his house when I'm finished with practice. He knew I was a bit obsessed with practicing. He knew I drained myself out. But there was no way in hell I'd be able to come to his house now.

I always told him I was sore from practice when he seen me rubbing my back, or massaging my shoulders. He didn't know the real reason, and that wasn't about to change any time soon.

I found myself driving up my own driveway, hundreds of negative thoughts flowing through my mind as I spotted his car in the driveway. I groaned to myself, looking up, angrily as I shut off the car. The beast became still, placid.

I had to force myself up the steps and into the front door. My house was large, larger than most.

Since my dad quit being a coach, he got hired at some famous vacation place to work. He wasn't usually around much; too busy making the big bucks. However, tonight must have been an exception.

Downstairs, it was quiet, neutral. It didn't seem right. I threw my backpack onto the coffee table by the television and strolled throughout the house. It was as if no one was home; there was dead silence.

I headed upstairs, and heard two loud voices. My mind changed. There was definitely somebody home.

The voices weren't talking, they were moaning, blatant and disturbing. I cringed at the thought of my dad having sex with that tramp.

"Troy? Is that you?" His voice bellowed out to me, as I made my way towards my room.

"Yeah." I answered, nonchalantly, heading towards my room.

"Where the hell have you been?" Yeah, he was pretty pissed off, no doubt.

"I stayed a little bit after practice, that's all." I yelled back, heading into my bedroom and slamming the door.

I was exhausted. I could have just lied down and fell asleep, right then and there.

My body was aching, it seemed excruciating.

I fell back on my bed, hitting the pillow. I just needed to gain my composure. I needed to breathe.

My heart started to race when I heard footsteps near my door. I frowned and looked up to my ceiling. Not tonight. I hoped. Not tonight.

"I told your daddy that I was gonna take you out for ice cream." She leaned on the doorframe like a prostitute ready to make her keep.

"One day . . . he's gonna find out." I muttered, more to myself then her.

"Shut the fuck up. I think you and I both know he doesn't give a rat's ass about you. He beat you up pretty good last night, I'll admit." She smirked, her psychopathic golden eyes making me ill.

"Are you ready for tonight?"

"Just fucking stop . . . ." I winched, shaking my head, burying it into the pillow.

"Troy, we don't want to make this _rough_, now do we?" She was approaching me, grabbing something out of her pocket.

My eyes sauntered up from the pillow, something lustrous appearing in her hands. My stomach churned and I swallowed, thickly as she poised herself in front of me. I was far too stiff to move, but God I wanted to so bad . . . to kill the woman. I hated her more than anything.

"You're gonna help me, tonight. It's gonna be _great_."

"It's never great." I snarled.

She was a crazy bitch, for crying out loud. She was demented in so many mental areas. Why my dad stood by her bewildered me. She was disgusting, her greasy tawny-colored hair, fake long red nails, and mousy green eyes. She belonged in a nuthouse, not my home.

My dad didn't care though. He loved her more than me. I was just the overdramatic basketball player he once showed interest in years ago. Then he found her, and fell in love with someone who he knew nothing about. He had no idea that she was insane. He didn't know what she made me feel like. He didn't have any fucking clue. And despite how much I tried to tell him, he ignored me.

She yanked me off of my bed, and pulled the knife up to my neck, "You know damn well all the shit I've got on you, and had I died, your dad would be one hundred percent positive it was you, because I've told him over and over that I know you wish I was dead."

"You're . . . insane." I choked, her grasp was so tight, and I could hardly breathe.

I was eighteen years old and she was thirty-six and involved in all kinds of shit with the police. She just used a fake ID to cover it all up. Like I said, _nuthouse_ . . . her real name wasn't even Sara (like she said it was), it was Isabella. She just didn't like the name because she thought it didn't suit her.

"Now, you'll be good, or like I said, you know what'll happen." She grinned, that hideous grin that revealed her set of teeth.

One of them was slightly chipped, and it looked like she hadn't flossed in ages. _Why_? I wondered as she pulled me downstairs. _Why_ did my father like this woman?

They've been dating for about seven months now, and it's been seven months of hell for me. My dad had mentioned getting engaged to her many times. I could only pray to God that it would never happen. She started messing with me after two months.

She thought it'd be cool for me to witness her dirty work. By dirty work, I mean, her being a crazy, malicious murderer for the day. With a fucking weapon to my neck, the decision became oppressive.

She shoved me outside, and I gained the nerve to get up.

I turned around to face her, and she grabbed me by the arms, straining me back.

"I'm not fucking stupid. Stop being sneaky and just _walk_." She demanded.

She took me into the trees, far out by the edge of town, where she parked her car, bizarrely miles away from my house. She was more suspicious than anyone in the world, and nobody ever suspected it.

We'd get into her car, and we'd go to this place she used to live. It was a plantation, and all the crops were dead. I usually wasn't the only kid that was there. She'd go and pick up random kids that seemed scared shitless. But these kids were young, about five or six, maybe even younger. She was the "stranger" that would accidentally pick them up on the street. She was the "good person" that supposedly knew their parents. It was all bull shit. She didn't know anyone.

She had a group of people alongside her. They were guys - big, bodybuilder-like guys, their chests must have been made of steel. They were so tall, probably about "6' at least. All I know, was they scared me out of my mind.

You'd have to be fucking superman to look up at them and say, "I'm not afraid of you."

They were all lunatics. They lived to see death, they yearned to see it. I felt like I was involved in the Chainsaw Massacre for awhile. I was so scarred by all of it. I couldn't sleep at night. I'd have dreams of them, of this. That place was haunted, haunted by disturbing memories.

One of the guys, his name was Augustus. It was such an atypical name, I couldn't ever forget it. I hated him, with a fiery red passion. I hated Sara (Isabella) much more though.

Augustus was the one who would put the gun to my head and say, "Don't you fucking go anywhere, pussy."

He'd force me to watch them destroy these kids, from head to toe. Sometimes, they'd try and make me do it.

By then, I'd find some way to get out of there. They thought it was hilarious, a young guy like me, having to watch these kinds of things. If I didn't watch, they'd hit me, or usually they just hit me anyway. They were deranged. They all belonged in mental hospitals. I felt like I was doing the world wrong by not saying anything. But I was too scared out of my mind to even talk about it, yet alone think about it. It kept me up at night. I was terrified of _everything_.

In my mind, I couldn't control my own thoughts. I was feeling twisted myself. I would hear voices that would tell me what to do, how to feel, how to react. I became paranoid about _everything_. I felt like everyone was out to get me.

On the inside, everything was menacing. My life became something I hated; it became something I wanted to throw away. On the outside, I was acting perfectly fine; I was acting like everything was okay.

If a friend came over, she would be sickeningly nice to them, and they'd be convinced she was an okay person for my dad. It seemed so shallow of everyone to not notice anything.

I came to school, fatigue written all over my face, and a bitter emptiness hidden in my eyes. Every time I moved, the affliction reminded me of everything from those nights. I could hear the screaming, smell the blood, taste my own tears, and I could see her demonic eyes.

I'd be sitting in class and everything would just eat me alive. I wanted to just scream. I couldn't control my own thoughts; they were driving me off the wall. I felt as if I was guilty for not saying anything, for being mute about it.

I was so fucking broken though, I couldn't just waltz up to Chad and say, "Well, my dad's girlfriend is a psychopath and she's been forcing me to watch her kill people."

God, no, do you know how crazy that would sound? I'd be sent to the sanitarium.

They all stood so sickly around each other, smirking like this was their entertainment. They longed for the sounds of screaming, the fear in the children's eyes. I couldn't watch. They held onto me so I couldn't break free. The sorrow that filled me couldn't be controlled.

I was kneeling on the ground, my head in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. At the same time, I felt like it was my fault these people were getting killed. I could have gone to the police, or something - got them all behind bars. But I couldn't even trust the police.

I had scars from things they did to me. I mean, they were lunatics. They didn't care; they thought it was factitious to make me suffer. They laughed when I shed my tears. I was the tough guy at school, the basketball player. I was the one with the strength; I was the one that everybody looked up to. Even girls were drawn to me, as if I was some charismatic leader or something. They thought I was attractive, that I was cool, had an impeccable style. I'd just wonder in my mind, what would they think if they knew this was my life, if they knew what I was going through? They'd just hate me; hate me for being such a coward and not speaking out about it. I mean, this was serious - this was a killing of many people.

It's hard to understand how anyone could keep their sanity after seeing these types of things. The sad, but realistic truth was, I had lost some of my sanity, and I just faked it all the time. I acted collected at school; I smiled at people and made jokes. They thought I was living a normal, common life. They thought even my dad was cool. My dad didn't even believe me. He had to be blind not to see the fear in my eyes, the angst in the way I walked, and the way the air was so bloody when we came back to the house.

But he just ignored it, kissed her, and whenever I suggested she was crazy, he'd smack me across the face and say, "Troy, you need to get your act together."

She walked inside, disregarding me as I pulled myself onto a chair in my backyard. I felt sick inside, like I was about to hurl any second.

I closed my eyes, trying to remove the images I seen. I couldn't. They wouldn't go away. I ran my fingers through my hair frenetically, all my emotions clouding together. I broke.

I looked at the sky, breathing out. My body still hurt from the other night, and the nauseating feeling never left my soul. The stars were limitless and I found myself wishing something. I never wished on stars, _ever._ I wasn't the poetic, sensitive type. But at that moment, I felt vulnerable at every level. I couldn't cry though. My feelings were numb. I felt like there was nothing inside of me.

I didn't even know what I was wishing - that someone would realize what was happening to me?

I just wanted to live again. I wanted to breathe without rehashing all these events, without putting up with open wounds all over again. I just wanted someone to listen to me. At the same time, that was impossible too. Even if I told one of my friends, they either wouldn't believe me, or they would think that I lost my mind. I couldn't risk the chance of becoming some freak. I wasn't the freak here.

My head was spinning ten times the speed of light. I needed to sleep. I had to sleep. I hadn't slept for a week, at least. One day, I snuck over to Chad's, and I got some rest, finally. Then, when I got home, I was exhausted all over again.

I just wanted my life to go back to the way it used to be. I wanted my dad to forget about her. I hated her, so much. She wasn't even healthy for my dad. I was terrified.

On the outside, I was composed and dauntless. On the inside, I was cynical and helpless. When you're a guy, and you can't fight back . . . nothing could get any worse.

And the way the children's screams echoed in your soul, it was just something you could never forget about. Suddenly, it was your fault. But there was nothing you could do to stop it.

I rested my head in my hands again. It was going to be a long night again tonight.

* * *

_END OF CHAPTER_


	3. Just Trust Your Heart

**TROY**

I could feel the pressure of the sunlight peeking in through the window. The window was right above my bed, it was hard to ignore it. I could feel all my muscles throbbing as I lifted myself up.

It was Tuesday morning and school was something I had to force myself to go to. It was hard enough dealing with my dad and his girlfriend.

I was shirtless and for some reason, my room was excruciatingly hot. I could feel the beads of sweat on my forehead from the night.

I breathed in sharply and headed into the bathroom to take a shower. I felt the burning as the steamy water ran down my body, only worsening the cuts. I could visually remember how it felt when Augustus shoved me into that cabinet, how I jammed my back into that vase, how the glass bit back at me like some sort of knife. I could remember the moment so well I almost broke down right there in the shower.

I rubbed the tender aching I felt across my arms from the tight grasp he had on me. I felt like there were bruises there, but there wasn't.

I got out and shifted my hair to the side, letting it dry on its own. I threw on a dark blue v-neck t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans.

I looked at myself in the mirror, analyzing what I've turned into, and unable to disdain the black circles underneath my eyes. Yeah, I hadn't slept much.

Last night, she took me out for a few hours. We came back late, and my dad thought nothing of it. He didn't care, he trusted her with me, for some odd reason. He was asleep. Yeah, that's right, he was fucking _sleeping_.

After getting dressed, I headed into the kitchen, and there they were. My stomach felt sick, although I hadn't ate in awhile, I could feel whatever I had ate previously moving around. I suppressed myself from vomiting.

I sat across from my dad, her eyelashes batting at him violently, like she was trying her hardest to make him pleased with her.

She looked like a little slut, I thought. She wore a plaid red miniskirt that rid up to her pussy practically, and her tank top was exposing her breasts at a rather uncomfortable level. I grimaced, she wasn't even attractive.

My dad, he seemed elated by her, captured by her disgusting appearance. He was sitting across from her, grinning at her as he ate up some bacon and eggs she must have fixed him.

He was wearing a casual navy-blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He always wore his hair combed back - moved out of his face. My dad was never the one for style or anything; he wasn't really worried about it. Everybody knew he was strong, that he was kind of hefty, he'd take you down in one punch. He played basketball all his life and worked out probably more than I did. He was almost as big as Augustus and those guys that enjoyed fucking with my life. I couldn't even stand up to my dad - he could probably kill me if he really wanted to. And all with just a simple shove.

They didn't even notice me, too caught up in their own worlds, their own obsessions with each other. It repulsed me.

I went to the cabinet and pulled out a bowl, grasping a box of Captain Crunch from above the fridge.

"Morning, Troy," Her slimy lips said to me, as she realized I came in.

I could feel her eyes on me as I let the tiny pieces of grain fall into the bowl, pouring some milk into it, "Morning." It came out as a grumble, and I could feel my dad's eyes fall to me, expectantly.

He wanted me to be sweet to her, to give her a chance, whatever. He didn't believe she could do no wrong. He hated that I was so . . . _rude_ to her, or so he said.

"How was the ice cream last night?" My father asked, and I felt my breath get caught into my throat, my head suddenly hurting.

I grabbed a spoon and came to sit down, as far away from her as I could. I couldn't look at her.

"Oh, it was delicious, wasn't it Troy?" Her eyes shifted to me, I could tell.

" . . . Yeah." I muttered, slipping a spoonful of Captain Crunch into my mouth.

Secretly, I wanted to scream.

"That's great; I love to see my future wife and my son bonding." My eyes snapped to my father, horror stricken in my eyes as he uttered these words.

My throat felt dry and I could feel the food I just consumed hitting the bottom of my stomach.

_No._

He didn't just say that, I tried to convince myself. But I was just lying to myself. He wore a giant smirk on his face; he was happy, ecstatic about it. The same expression appeared in her eyes. She then looked to me, some kind of mockery involved in them.

It was like they were laughing at me, saying, "Ha, you lose."

My stomach hurt so much. I felt like I was going to throw up all that food right there. I felt my gut giving way and my head was throbbing. The world seemed to be spinning and I couldn't concentrate on anything but those fucking words that he said; her - _his_ future wife. I almost choked. My eyes were glued to him, the terror never leaving my eyes. They couldn't. I wanted to just vanish, to just disappear. I couldn't deal with this shit anymore, I couldn't fucking take it. I was _dying_. This pain was killing me.

She couldn't take the place, or the title of my mother. She would kill me.

Feeling dizzy and sick, I excused myself to school, ignoring the fact that I hardly ate. I didn't care. I just didn't care. I felt like I was going to lose my mind. I practically darted out the door and ruminated into the bushes.

My face felt hot and my stomach felt raw. Everything seemed hazy.

Get it together.

I had to pull myself together. I had to get to school, I had to pick up Chad this morning. I had to act like everything was alright.

I got in the driver's seat of my beat-up truck and sighed, starting it up. As usual, it growled as it started. I took off down the street, knowing Chad's house wasn't too far away from my own. I tried to regain myself as I drove, tried to forget about everything, tried to brush it off. My muscles tensed and my stomach lurched. Forget him, forget her, and forget all of it.

In a few minutes, I was waiting in front of Chad's house, honking the horn, impatiently.

He stormed out the door, yelling something into his house as he came out.

Chad wore a green t-shirt that said, "I majored in VACATION." a pair of jeans, and high tops. He always managed to strike up the craziest head of curls, and nobody could understand how he handled it.

He had his books clenched in one of his hands as he jumped into the passenger seat of my car.

"Hey, 'sup, hoops?"

Chad gave me this nickname awhile back. He knew I was pretty weirdly into basketball, and I was basically the best on the team. I honestly believed it just ran in the family. I got lucky. And plus, when I was a kid, my dad would always play basketball with me. He taught me pretty well.

"Hey man," I greeted, starting up my piece of shit of a vehicle, "am I picking up Zeke and Jason today?"

"Yeah, man. You're kind of late though, what's up with that?" Chad asked, beginning to mess with my stereo - the one thing that actually worked in my truck.

"I overslept." I lied through my teeth, gnawing on my bottom lip.

"Man, you should have come to Jason's last night - we had pizza and there were some really hot chicks there."

"I thought you liked Taylor?" I asked, though I wasn't shocked that Chad would say something like that.

He had been with Taylor for a year now. It was obvious to everyone it was more then just "a crush". They were in love. Lately, Chad seemed a bit aggravated though because Taylor wouldn't have sex with him. Yeah, I know. It's ridiculous. After one year, the least the girl could do was give it up to him.

Chad muttered something underneath his breath.

"Still, man?" I chuckled.

"Shut up, man. I just don't get it - why won't she? I'm not gonna go around and talk about it." He argued, as if I was Taylor.

"Aw, come on, don't lie, you will. Maybe she just thinks you're gonna get her pregnant or something. I dunno, man, I've never had that problem." I told him as I got back on the main road.

"Yeah, I _know_, Troy." Chad's eyes were on me with irritation. I didn't face him - a grin appearing on my face. "Just 'cause girls are willing to fuck you in school doesn't mean you can make me feel like shit about it, man. Anyways, all those girls were easy, and you know that. Taylor's not just some slut. I _love_ her." His eyes were thick with seriousness.

"Man, they weren't _all_ sluts. And you know they never last anyways, so don't feel bad."

"That's because you never have time for any of them."

Yeah, well, that was something I couldn't change. I frowned, pulling up to Zeke's driveway.

I honked the horn, which sounded like a dying cat or something. I really needed to take this thing and get it fixed, or something.

"I need to get my grades up, man. I don't have time to devote myself to some girl." I told Chad, leaning back in my seat in exasperation.

"Grades?" Chad gave me a hoisted eyebrow. "Since when?"

Something else I should have probably mentioned . . . I always got really good grades. My friends weren't really into school and they usually messed around. I usually messed around too. I rarely paid attention, but somehow, I got lucky with a brain, and whenever I took a test, I was sure to get an A on it. My friends didn't know that though. Our "status quo" forbid us to be smart.

They'd probably shit themselves if I actually told them I got straight A's. It was just this year I started trying, but none of them knew that.

I didn't have time to do homework at home. Usually I would sneak into the library after school or something. I'd hide in the very back so none of the science geeks would see me and I'd finish up my homework. Darbus knew damn well I read Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.

It's kind of embarrassing, but I was actually thinking about college. It was more of the possibility of escaping than anything that motivated me. I just needed to get away from this town, to get away from my "new family".

The thought of my dad marrying Sara appeared in my thoughts again and I felt my face pale.

The sick feeling popped back into my stomach as Zeke jumped into the back seat of the truck, a huge, arrogant smirk on his face, as usual.

Zeke was probably the most conceited of all of us. He was the one who bullied the freshmen and the science geeks, too. Chad and I avoided the idea; we weren't really as judgmental as he was. Zeke was like the guy that would "accidentally" push tiny kids into their lockers, or would "accidentally" bump into kids at school who he didn't like. I really didn't think Zeke liked anyone except for us guys and the hot girls at our school.

He always made dirty jokes about the geeky girls though. I seriously thought he was just a horny bastard - he always wanted to fuck someone. I thought he was a virgin, but I could be wrong.

He hated that I got more action than anyone though. And that I didn't appreciate it.

"Hey pussies, what's crackin'?" He asked, as a greeting.

Yeah, he was just like that. He had a crude sense of humor, and most people couldn't take his vulgar tongue. We learned how to deal with it though. He was the one in the group that kept us laughing, anyways. He always had something to say, and he wasn't afraid of speaking his mind.

And just like Chad, he stayed out of my business.

"Hey man." Chad greeted, glancing back at Zeke briefly.

Zeke was largely built with muscles - African American, like Chad, but didn't have the erratic hair that Chad had. Zeke just had a casual buzz cut, like the one's you would see in the army. He had large features, if that says anything, and he wore casual pants and a t-shirt.

"T-man, how's it going?"

"It's alright."

"Can we listen to some of my shit?" Zeke asked, nodding his head towards my radio.

I rolled my eyes, "_Again_? Man, I'm so sick of that song."

"Come on, Troy." He pleaded, now Chad's eyes on me, also.

I didn't like hearing loud music in the morning. Every morning, Zeke would beg me and beg me to let him put his IPod on. He had one of those cords that plugged it into the radio. I wasn't trying to be difficult or something, I was just exhausted, and I didn't want to hear the same damn song _again_.

For about two weeks, Zeke would put on the same rap song, over and over. He and Chad would have like moments where they would sing together like a bunch of homos. I know. It was fucking annoying, especially at this hour in the morning! I knew they were just messing around, and half the time they would do it just to piss me off, but this morning, I just wasn't feeling anything.

"Troy, it's just one song." Chad's voice interrupted my thoughts.

I rubbed my forehead and shook my head, "Whatever, do what you want."

Zeke practically jumped in his seat and plugged in his IPod, a huge grin on his face as the beginning of "Dead and Gone" by T.I. ranted across the edges of my beastly truck.

He would start singing Justin Timberlake's part, Chad following behind him, deeply dramatic, like they were singing to each other. Then they would elbow me and try to get me to sing it. I'd just shake my head and ignore them.

"This is my fucking jam, Troy, how can you not dig this shit?"

"Seriously, Troy, its sick, isn't it?" Chad was grinning.

They looked to me and grinned as Justin Timberlake's part came on, _"Oh, I've been driving on this road too long, tryin' to find my way back home, but the old me is dead and gone, dead and gone. And oh, I've been driving on this road too long, tryin' to find my way back home, but the old me is dead and gone, dead and gone."_

Maybe I didn't like the song because I almost could relate to it. I'm not sure, but there was something about the loud music and the voices of my friends in my ear that just annoyed me.

I felt like I was going to die; the scars were like a burning sensation throughout my body. I could feel the aches in my stomach come back and the cuts in my back . . . they hurt so bad, I had to stop myself from crying. I felt like such a pussy about it too.

We pulled up to Jason's house, my friends still jamming out to the music.

Jason was probably the underdog of the group, the one that wasn't half as "cool" as the rest. In school, he was considered one of us, but he wasn't just yet that "well-liked". Girls usually shunned him and he was kind of dense compared to the rest of us. He always said the stupidest things at the worst times. Say, someone was crying, he'd probably say something funny, and we'd glare at him. If he fucked a girl over, he'd probably just grin and say, "Well, it was a good time." He'd earn a slap, you know?

Jason was just like that though. Hell, we kind of liked having him around though. He was a lot of fun, especially when we made fun of him. Yeah, he'd get offended, but it was hilarious to watch him get all pissed off over nothing. Zeke especially liked to taunt him. Chad and I just did it when he said something corny, which was most of the time.

He headed out, shouting "I love you too" back to his mother from inside. I could hear Zeke snickering from the backseat, mockingly.

Jason wore just a pair of jeans and a polo that was orange and had white stripes. There's nothing much to describe - brunette hair and a pair of matching eyes, slight stubble. Like I said earlier though, girls didn't really notice Jason.

He climbed into the truck, no books on him at all. Typical.

"Hey guys," He said timidly, taking the seat next to Zeke, who was still snickering.

"T.I. again? Smooth, guys, it is like the sickest song of the century." He grinned, possibly too much.

"Hell no, the sickest song of the century is that new Lil Wayne mix tape, you guys hear that song, "New Orleans Maniac"? It's fucking tight."

"Yeah, that song is really tight - probably the best." Jason had a mind change in the matter of seconds.

That's the thing with him - he always agreed with everything we said. He was eager to be accepted in our group. I think that's why people didn't like him that much - he just copied off of us, just did what we did. He was on the basketball team, probably one of the greatest players, alongside us, but he was never really that original, never had his own reputation, just kind of the tag along.

We arrived around school about ten minutes later. I was kind of glad, because I was really getting a headache from my friends singing so loud, plus they enjoyed repeating the song over and over again. I was so sick and tired of "Dead and gone", I could have gone crazy.

We all walked in together, and the way everybody's eyes seemed to meet us, it was unreal. I mean, I guess we were that clique in school that everybody wanted to be in, the group that all the girls liked. We were the one's that the geeks would admire from afar and that the hot chicks would be all over, all the time. And when I say all the time, I mean, _all the time_. We never minded it though. I didn't mind it. School was sort of my evasion. It was amazing how people acted around me at school. They acted like I was some sort of famous person or something. That's how bad it was.

At home, I felt like a lowlife, like a reject, like a fucking loser. Then I'd go to school, and I'd be like a god to them. None of us understood why people liked us so much. Zeke treated people like shit that weren't attractive and Chad and I just were nice to everybody. People acted like we were the Pope or something . . . it didn't seem right. They just bowed down to us. It seemed extraordinary. I never experienced anything like it. And girls, they were always smiling at me, winking at me, asking me to hang out with them, writing love notes to me. My friends always were envious of me because it wasn't hard for me to get a date.

A girl hasn't been to my house in about a year, since Sara came around, but they were perfectly fine with fucking at a friend's or fucking at their house.

A few weeks would pass, and they'd get sick of me never being around. After a few times, I couldn't get more involved. They'd want to come to my house or they'd act all weird about me.

As for the cuts, for the soreness, I'd always have some kind of excuse. I'd say that I accidentally ran into something that was glass, and it cut through my skin, you know. I was a good liar, I was an excellent liar. If I was sore, I'd say it was from working out, from lifting too many weights. I did spend a lot of time getting my muscles into gear, but I couldn't say I spent my life working out, like I told people.

Nobody ever thought anything of me. Why? Probably because I looked so damn normal, so damn average. I smiled, I laughed, I joked, and I went to the bathroom during passing period. I was like a normal person. I would lunge girls into lockers and make out with them when I knew they wanted me as bad as I wanted them. I would talk dirty when my friends would. I would get detentions after school for talking too much in class. I didn't act like something was wrong.

Anyways, back to walking in the school . . .

They would follow me to my locker, since I would always grab my first and second hour's books, dropping some others off. Zeke and Jason would always try and convince me that I shouldn't even bother with school, that Ms Darbus was going to flunk me no matter what.

However, when nobody was in Darbus' class after school, I'd come in to retake tests and do extra credit. She knew that, but nobody else did. I'd always say that I went to some girls' for a little while or maybe I just didn't feel good so I went home instead of going to practice.

Lautner, our new coach, was as solid as ice though - he'd fucking crack you with a mere glance. People said he was worse then my dad and my dad was a jackass, all the time. This guy was like the devil in disguise. He'd push us to our limits every day. We'd have to run our fastest to a certain area and back to the school. It seemed endless, and some guys couldn't take it - they'd pass out, or they'd end up vomiting on the side of the road. We'd just pass them.

Chad and I had built up our tolerance; we were two of the fastest. Even if I was in my worst state of affliction, I still managed to keep myself on top of the game. I wouldn't let the bruises, the cuts ruin my abilities. I'd run the distance, I'd make the hoops, I'd get the grades, I'd put on the mask.

Was I strong? I'd like to think so - I had put up with the shit for seven months, still living like a normal person, when I was actually about to fall apart any second. I was vulnerable but nobody noticed that. Nobody cared enough to notice. People acted so impressed by me, so allured to me, but it was a fucking wonder why they didn't even notice the reality behind me. Then again, why would I want them to?

"Man, I don't even know why you bother with that shit - Darbus is gonna flunk you." Zeke told me, as usual, as I grabbed a few books and put some back.

"She hates our asses."

"Screw Darbus, man, we need to get her fired, or something." Chad added from beside me.

"I really don't care about her and her stupid speeches about Shakespeare. Honestly, I don't get that whole thing, do you get that language, the whole, thy, and thee, shit?"

"Fuck no," Zeke murmured from the other side of me, "its shit, if you ask me, I don't know why he's such a fucking historical figure. Hell, I'll make some fucked up language; does that mean I can be famous too?"

I rolled my eyes - they were always cutting down Shakespeare and anything else that Darbus would bring up.

"I think Romeo and Juliet was an amazing story." Jason whispered from behind us - his usual stupidity propping up in the conversation.

I made a face as my friends turned around and lifted their eyebrows.

"You're such a fagget, Cross."

I chuckled at Zeke's statement as I gathered the books, threw them in my bag, and turned around to face the group of friends I'm so accustomed to.

"You ready, Mr. Organized?" Zeke asked, snickering, mockingly.

"Whatever, man, I'm gonna graduate, I know that much." I answered him.

"Well, congratulations, Bolton, you'll really outdo yourself then." He smirked, jestingly.

We began to walk towards our first hours, the guys lingering by my side, since we all conveniently had first hours nearby each other.

I probably could have had AP classes, had I actually tried freshmen year, but I never did. I didn't care then, I was too enriched with the reputation I had, and I was too obsessed over my new friends. I thought I was hot shit then, I really did.

I think I woke up when I watched Augustus snap some kid's head off though, or when my dad smacked me across the face and sent me down to the floor for talking shit about Sara. I realized, people really didn't care that much about me - I wasn't that awesome of a person. I realized I was living a lie, that my dad even hated me. It's hard when you knew that your father wouldn't even listen to you. I watched the kids that got bullied in school, mostly from Zeke, and I thought about those kids that Augustus would fuck with - the way he would mimic them, how he would smirk at them so disgustingly, how they'd cry, pleading for some sort of rescue, some sort of freedom. I couldn't stand it. They didn't deserve it. Nobody did. I refused to ever treat someone that badly, ever.

I'm sure back in the day I might have, but that was a mistake. I felt sympathy for them now. It was different now - _I_ was different now.

"See you later," They sought me off as I headed towards my first hour, US History.

It wasn't a big deal. I was always good in US History, though I didn't have any good friends in that class. They all had some stupid Art class or something. I'll admit it now, I hate art, and I'm horrible at it.

I knew they only took it because they wanted a slack off class, a class to fuck around in. They knew it'd be easy. They wanted an easy grade.

I'd take my seat and already, eyes were on me. I tilted my head up in acknowledgment to a girl that sat in the corner of the room - Tori Arndt. She was grinning at me. I knew that for awhile now, she wanted to get with me. She was beautiful though - mid-length golden-blonde hair and dark, cobalt eyes that turned a lime green when she smiled. She had a mesmerizing tan and her lips were to die for. Not to mention, she had a body that could get you hard in a second. Yeah, she was hot.

And I haven't even bothered with her, yet.

"Hey Troy," The girl in front of me, she had dark brown hair that went to her shoulders, beaming green eyes, an oval-shaped face, and a smile on her face, "How was your night last night?"

This was common - the usual "how are you" conversation, just to get involved in more depth, coming afterwards would be the whole, "what are you doing this weekend", and then they'd invite me over, a persuasive smirk on their faces. However, with this girl, Breanna, it seemed almost every day she'd do this. Every day, I had a new excuse, I'm pretty sure.

This time, I felt like I had to give her a chance, "After practice, meet me outside the locker room." The words came out of my mouth like a dirty invitation and I almost regretted the words as the bell for my next hour rang.

I didn't think I really was ready for it, but I knew it'd be something . . . . Something I hadn't gotten for weeks.

"Troy's getting a BJ tonight." It's not like it's surprising to hear Zeke making fun of it.

He always would force things out of me, and if I had plans after practice, it was most-likely with a girl. Sometimes, it was just great to get away from going home for a few hours though.

However, besides what was going on after practice, I was informed that there was going to be something strange _about_ practice. There was a rumor going around that Ryan Evans was going to join our basketball team. That news didn't hit any basketball player well. He didn't seem potentially strong at all, and he seemed more into stuff like musicals and more feminine type of things. We basketball players were pretty pissed; we also heard that his girlfriend and her friend were going to join.

During practice, Zeke was about nose-to-nose with Lautner, a huge frown on his face, in his basketball uniform and everything. He was definitely complaining, but Lautner wasn't giving in. He actually seemed amused by Zeke's anger. Chad and I watched him - Chad in his white t-shirt and basketball shorts, and me in my Nike blue t-shirt and black basketball shorts.

"This is such bull - we really will lose the tournament now." Chad whispered to me.

"Yeah, girls aren't made to play basketball . . . really."

"Dude, yeah, especially not Ryan Evans. He's in fucking musicals." He hissed.

Zeke came from Coach Lautner's room, a huge frown on his face as he approached us, with his uniform on, "Guys, we're stuck with a bunch of girls."

Both of us groaned at the same time. These girls would ruin our chance of winning the tournament. I wasn't sexist but our team was so damn aggressive. We were like monsters when we were out there. They would break their nails and cry or something. They wouldn't be able to handle it.

We took our daily run, which seemed limitless. My legs were numb; I couldn't even feel them as I jogged next to Chad. My chest was heavy and I felt like I was going to pass out any second. I was overheating and I felt my eyes practically watering from the pressure on my body.

Ryan Evans, Kelsi Nielson, and some girl I've never seen in my life were the one's that joined.

Well, I may have seen that girl, but I had no idea who she was, that is. They were at the very end of the group of people running. Lautner seemed irritated by their slow pace.

Ryan looked ridiculous in a pair of really short shorts and a bandana holding back his hair.

His girlfriend waddled by his side like she could barely even breathe any more, her hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore long shorts that seemed like spandex. I had to stop myself from staring - she must have been crazy! She was petite, but cute, I guess if you're going for a science geek, or whatever. She usually wore glasses but they were off and her green eyes were full with fatigue.

There was a girl in front of them - I didn't know her name, but she was faster then the both of them, however they still remained far behind. The girl had really long, black hair. I wondered if she had extensions, her hair seemed too long. It was placed in gorgeous, natural curls, and I couldn't lie that her hair was beautiful, because it was. She seemed to have a slight tan to her, possibly just her skin color in general, like she naturally had a slight beige color to her. She didn't wear a lot of make up, and she was sweating a bit, her hair tossed back in a long ponytail. She had huge chocolate eyes and they were focused on her path. She wore tiny red shorts that almost went up her ass and a white tank top that practically rid up her stomach.

I had to turn my head away, feeling a slight longing between my legs.

We spent the most of the time shooting hoops and playing two-on-two games between Chad and I and Jason and Zeke. Chad and I always beat out Zeke and Jason though, we both knew we were much better than them, and they knew it also.

I spent a little extra time afterwards, shooting some extra hoops as my friends said bye to me. Ryan's group, well, they weren't doing so well - they could hardly dribble in general.

Zeke continued making fun of them and how much they sucked as they missed every hoop. Once, they hit Jimmy "The Rocket man", and that was hilarious. We all almost cried from laughing so hard.

I was drenched in sweat by time I headed into the locker room - its usual emptiness fulfilling the walls. I took the usual shower, immediately removing the layer of perspiration that had taken me over.

Walking out, fully dressed in a new pair of basketball shorts and a white t-shirt, I ran right into Breanna, who seemed less dressed then before. She had a smirk on her face and I licked my top lip as she moved closer to me.

I knew she was _that_ type of girl.

Before I knew it, I had pushed her against the wall and my tongue was down her throat, my hands wandering all over her body. She seemed shocked by my quick desire. I couldn't help it - I haven't had anything for a month or two, and I was getting bored of it. No one was around.

Her hand found my shorts and I felt her yank them down as she grasped my member. I was already hard when she began to stroke me, up and down. I felt the ultimate pleasure as I breathed out in a sigh. I was crashing my lips against hers in a thunder-like pressure. My hands were all over her breasts and I cupped them, her biting my bottom lip in want. She then lifted my shirt up and everything stopped.

I was almost ready to cum when I opened my eyes . . . she stopped.

She was just staring at the few cuts on the top of my shoulders, like opened wounds, her lips trembling with fear, "W-what . . ."

"I ran into glass, on accident." I whispered, so used to the lie that it didn't faze me, her asking.

"Oh, OK..." She believed me, easily, her lips back on mine.

To me, she was practically a stranger. But I didn't mind. I needed this. I needed escape from reality.

* * *

_End of Chapter_


	4. Open Another Door

**TROY**

That night was probably one of the worst memories of my life. It was one of those things I really wanted to just forget. I wanted to actually remove it from my memory completely and never think about it again. I'm not sure why at the time it was so revolting to me. I think it was because I couldn't tell my dad - because I knew he wouldn't believe me.

After dinner, the little slut slipped herself into my room, sliding her chipped fingernails through her hair.

"You wouldn't dare tell our little secret, would you?" A grotesque smirk played on her face, like she was mocking me.

"It's not like he would believe you anyways." This only entertained her.

"No, he'd believe _me_. He doesn't even care about you anymore - you're just his reject son." She chuckled darkly.

Goosebumps emerged onto my neck and I could feel all the food I ate today tumbling around in my stomach. I couldn't find my voice, but that happened a lot when I was around her. I hated her too much to even waste my breath on her.

She crawled towards me.

I sat on my bed, grimacing at her, my eyes turned into slits of disgust. I was in the process of starting my Algebra homework and she was interrupting me. My books were placed in front of me, a pencil in my hand.

She snapped the pencil out of my reach, pushing me down to the bed.

"What? Is something wrong?" She managed to croak, straining me down to the bed.

I could smell the mix of cigarettes and Smirnoff in her breath. She licked her sapless lips that smirk still on her face. She had me pinned down.

"You know, I've always seen a resemblance between you and your father." She was moving her hands freely, yanking onto my shirt's material.

All my strength was gone from basketball practice and I couldn't fight her hands. I felt my stomach was raw and queasy at the same time, my hands beginning to sweat as she trailed further down my shirt, now placing her hands inside of the shirt.

"Get off of me, you slut." I grumbled, using all the force in me to attempt to lunge her off of me.

She didn't even budge. She only smirked more, now her hands gripping towards my lower body.

"What? I'm sure you're pretty well developed by now."

My world was spinning. No, this couldn't be happening. Her hands equipped towards my boxers and I felt my entire body freeze in place, the coldness of her dirty hands making me sick. I could feel tears of repugnance approaching my eyes and I felt a moan at the tip of my tongue. I wouldn't let it come through, no.

I felt her hands dive into my area and I felt outrage throughout my body as I tried to control my hormones as she began to force her hands on me. I felt her hold tighter than any other girl has ever in my life. It hurt. It hurt _badly_.

My eyes watered.

"Bitch, get off of me." I demanded, regaining the ability to speak.

Harder, she squeezed harder. I could have died, hadn't I heard my dad's bellowing voice from downstairs.

"Sara, I'm home!" His voice was like a lifesaver to me.

I felt my entire body become at ease as she let go, a frown appearing across her full lips.

"We'll finish this later." She hissed, her hand pulling out of my boxers.

I could feel the pain of her grip still lingering as she got off my bed and headed downstairs.

I let out a rough mumble of agony, resting my hand on my member. I hated her so much. There were no words for the foulness she just threw onto me. I still felt millions of particles jumping through my stomach, begging to be let out.

I felt so much sickness; I didn't think I could make it another day.

I never even looked forward to the days. I wasn't like the kids who longed for the weekends or longed for summer vacation. I'm not really sure what I looked forward to. I think it was just getting out of this town, getting away from _her_ forever.

I was shocked that she left me alone for the rest of the night. I managed to get done all my homework.

* * *

I was practically exhausted. I hadn't slept in what seemed like weeks. I could barely keep my eyes open in class. I'm not sure why, but it hit me most in last hour, Ms. Darbus' class. I knew that she was going to kill me, but I couldn't keep my eyes open. It almost hurt to keep them open.

"Troy, dude, you're gonna get in trouble for sleeping, man." Chad warned me, whispering in my ear from behind me.

I didn't respond - that kind of proved I really didn't care. I didn't care much about anything. I just wanted to get my diploma and get out of there.

I didn't want to pitter patter over the stupid things that Shakespeare has done anymore. I just wanted the worksheets, the tests; I just wanted to do them all so I could escape this miserable life and forget my terrifying past.

Yeah, right. I'd never be able to forget all of this.

"Mr. Bolton, are you feeling sick?" Ms. Darbus' voice awakened my moment of almost being asleep.

I was just drifting, and I could tell everybody was looking at me. My head was on the desk, my eyes still closed.

"No, Ms. D just tired." I muttered, hoping she wouldn't be a bitch for just one day.

"Well, maybe you'd find the principal's office more exciting?" Her suggestion told me that she wasn't in a good mood today, and she wasn't going to let me slide.

I opened my eyes, painfully, and looked at her, hoping she could just read my mind that she could tell that there was something wrong.

"Are you having problems sleeping? School's a place for learning, not rest, Bolton." She lectured, still not seeing behind the act.

I leaned back in my seat, realizing that there was no way out.

I had to force myself to keep my eyes open, "You're totally right, Ms. D, I'm sorry."

I could hear the chuckles from a few students behind me. I didn't mean to sound like a sarcastic jerk, it just happened sometimes, and people took it that way.

"Yes, so it seems . . ." She looked to me, skeptically, but then headed back to her podium, obviously to rant on about Shakespeare some more.

I felt the weariness building on me as I focused my eyes on her. My eyes were practically watering from staying open. They felt sore.

"Troy, please, try to keep your eyes open." Her voice said, and a few more people laughed this time.

Didn't she _get_ it? God, of course she didn't. She had no idea - nobody did.

"Yeah, I'm trying, Ms. D."

A few more giggles were heard. I wasn't trying to be funny, even. I was just trying to stay awake, for Christ's sakes! I just wanted to get through the day. I couldn't even pass the exhaustion that I was feeling though.

And everybody else thought I was just ignorant.

The bell rang eventually, and I quickly gathered my things, darting for the door.

My friends were watching me in concern, right at my side.

"Dude, what was up with you today? You looked really tired, man." Chad almost looked worried.

"Yeah, just didn't get too much sleep last night." I told him as Zeke and Jason caught up to us.

"Bull shit, you couldn't even keep your eyes open. Were you fucking someone?"

"Yeah, that's _exactly_ what it was - no man, I was just up playing basketball." I lied to Zeke, who almost looked convinced.

"I heard you and Breanna Beghtel hit it off . . . what happened?" Jason asked.

I sighed. What was there to say? We did stuff: didn't mean anything.

"Yeah, didn't work out." I responded, casually, grabbing my basketball stuff out of my locker.

"Guys, I gotta go do something, I'll meet you guys at practice." I told them, as they lined up by locker as if to wait for me.

"Um . . . alright, man, see you later." Chad gave me a friendly tap on the back, while Zeke and Jason just raised their eyebrows.

They knew something was up - they just didn't want to interfere, which was fine with me.

I watched them leave carefully. I then headed towards my US History class. I needed to retake a test that I totally flunked the other day. I didn't want my friends to freak out that I actually cared about school, so I decided against telling them.

My teacher, Mr. Schreiber, was just about to leave.

He noticed me and looked a bit surprised, "Oh, hello, Troy you came to retake the test?"

"Yeah," I answered, "My grade wasn't so great last time."

He seemed pleased by my eagerness to try in his class and went back to his desk, scraping around for the test. He pulled it out as I made myself comfortable at one of the desks.

"You've got notes?" He inquired, nodding his head down to the full notebook I had placed in front of me.

"Yeah, I do." I flipped to the first page - all the notes were organized.

He handed me the test, and I began to answer the questions - knowing every single answer like the back of my head. Schreiber seemed impressed by this, and I hurriedly gave him the test when I was finished.

"Thanks, Troy." He said, giving me a wave as I grabbed my things and headed towards the door.

"Yeah, thanks for letting me come, sir." I called out, shoving my notebook into my bag.

I headed out of the classroom and into the hall. I was going to be late for practice but that happened sometimes. I'd just have to jog the ten laps on my own.

I wasn't really worried too much.

I headed into the locker room and put on my black basketball shorts and my navy-blue Nike t-shirt. I couldn't help but notice the heavy bags underneath my eyes. I looked pretty rough.

I never really understood why girls at my school thought I was so attractive. I never really went out of my way to look good. My hair just turned out like this from the shower, it fell to my forehead on its own. The only thing I really liked about myself was my muscles and my eyes. I thought I was pretty built, though I was hoping I could get a bit bigger. Lately, I've been extremely sore though. My eyes . . . well, people always complimented me on them. I'd rather have my own than somebody else's.

I jogged into the gymnasium and I was met with Coach Lautner's grave eyes.

He frowned at me, "You're late too? Where were you, Troy?"

I didn't notice that there was someone else standing next to him. It was that one girl from the other day. I couldn't remember her name. I just remembered that she had really long, dark hair, and really big brown eyes. She wore shorts that were too short for her backside, and she was kind of cute.

I mean, I guess she was cute . . . had you been going for the innocent church girl type of thing. Her hair was amazing though. It just curled naturally . . . like some kind of doll or something. And she was kind of short, I noticed. Or maybe I was just tall, I'm not sure.

"I . . . had to take care of a test." Her eyes were on me when I said this.

But I figured it didn't matter - she wasn't Chad or Zeke or Jason. She didn't even know me.

"Well, since you and Miss Montez find school activities important, you two will head outside and run the ten laps you missed." Our coach was no one to take lightly.

His eyes were a dark color and he never suggested things - he just simply ordered them.

My eyes turned back to the petite girl standing next to me. Her hair was tied back today and just flowed freely from her back. I felt stupid urges to just grab it and run my hands through it. She was pretty . . . and it was like she didn't try to be.

Man, I must have been going crazy. I tried not to slap my forehead at these ridiculous thoughts as the coach eyeballed the backdoor. The girl looked to me again before heading towards the doors and I felt my downstairs suddenly getting pretty excited.

"Yo, Troy! What the hell's going on man?" Zeke called out to me, loudly.

His eyes traveled to this girl that was walking passed him and he smirked, "Hey, sweet cheeks, you know, I heard you're into chemistry - want to combine chemicals?"

I rolled my eyes, typical Zeke.

She must have been smart, that's all. He always made fun of the smart girls. I didn't categorize anybody, like I've said before. I wasn't like him or Jason. Chad wasn't either. (Since he did go out with the smartest girl in the school . . .)

I headed towards the doors, behind the dark-haired girl. The sun was intense and I could feel it burning through my skin as I stepped outside. I realized that the girl had already started jogging around the track.

I sighed, taking a breath, and then headed towards the tracks. I began to run - using all my speed and power to make a lap. I just wanted to get it over with today.

I just wanted to get the entire day over with, actually.

I overlapped the girl about four times, and I could tell that she was getting annoyed with my potent legs. I couldn't help it though. I've been playing basketball forever. I couldn't say my legs didn't feel like they were about to fall off though. I felt my head was pounding and my heart was racing. Sweat engulfed my entire body and I felt like I had just stepped into a huge pool of perspiration. By my sixth lap, I noticed that the dark-haired girl didn't look so good. She was drenched in sweat, just like me, but her pace had slowed . . . I watched her, almost concerned.

And then, her eyes closed and she seemed to faint to the ground. My mind began to race. What would I do? Should I help her? I wondered, hopelessly. Breathing sharply, I jogged over towards her, kneeling down next to her.

"Hey . . . are you alright?"

I heard her mumbling things and groaning, but she didn't move, really. Her face was soaked in sweat, almost unhealthily.

"Hello? I don't know your name or anything . . ." I muttered, feeling kind of like an idiot for just sitting there, not being able to help her at all.

Maybe I should have just gotten the coach - that would've been less embarrassing.

I couldn't yield my eyes from those short shorts she was wearing. You could practically see up her shorts and I felt so obligated, but I restrained my eyes. I kept my gaze on her face, hoping she would just open her eyes. I was always the type of person to help people; I couldn't just let someone pass out.

Finally, she managed to move - her head tilting back and forth in the dirt. She was breathing in and out strongly, her eyes beginning to open. They were so big, so big and brown. They became wide when she met my own. I'm surprised she didn't scream or anything - she looked freaked out.

"Uh, hey . . . you kind of passed out; I was just seeing if you were alright or not." I scratched the back of my neck, my eyes still on her.

She scrunched her nose barely, using her hands to pull herself off of the dirt. However, this didn't happen - she fell back down on her behind, grumbling.

"Are you . . . alright?" I inquired, practically repeating myself.

Idiot, shut up already. Obviously she wasn't. I looked away, slightly humiliated that I was talking like a mental person to her.

"I passed out?" She breathed, quietly.

My eyes moved back to her, meeting those huge, brown eyes again. They were completely different than any other girls'. There was something so much more beautiful about them.

"Figures that would happen." She chuckled, trying again to bring herself up.

She succeeded this time.

I got up from my knees, feeling a strange awkwardness.

I bit my bottom lip, hard, and then looked elsewhere, "I could . . . get you some water, if you want? I'm Troy, by the way. I don't think we've ever met."

My eyes moved back to her, and I realized I was being really friendly . . . and I have never spoken with her before.

She was just looking at me in a rather bizarre way.

"Um . . . sure, I guess that would help. And I know who you are." She laughed lightly, as if that was probably the dumbest thing I could do - introduce myself.

I guess I understood. Everybody in East High seemed to know who I was, so it was no surprise that she had heard of me.

"I'm Gabriella." She added, distantly as I handed her my water bottle.

I'm surprised she just drank from it, careless of whether I might just have herpes or something.

She sighed gratefully and handed it back to me after one giant gulp, "I can't do ten laps for anything. I was pretty dumb for signing up for basketball, I guess. I just thought it'd be fun and something new . . ."

Her eyes were looking passed me. "But I can't even run."

Her laugh echoed again - the sound somewhat pleasing.

"Yeah, I think you have about eight more to go from what I remembered," I chuckled, suddenly feeling more comfortable around her. "I have four."

"There's no way I'm going to run eight more, I'll have a heart attack at age seventeen!"

She smiled, the two of us just standing in the middle of the tracks.

"I'll make a deal with you," I told her, folding my arms, "I'll tell the coach you ran all ten if you let me go in now and vogue that I ran nine. You just have to come in a few minutes after I do."

I found myself going easy on a girl I hardly knew. Because she was cute.

I knew how badly my friends would laugh at me though if they knew about this.

"That would be amazing!" She exclaimed her chocolate brown eyes gleaming as she smiled.

"You know, I've heard a lot of things about you." Her smile was more teasing now.

"Rumors? Oh boy . . ." I pretended to roll my eyes, but I couldn't help but be fascinated by the girl.

"What have you heard?"

"Well," She grinned, her head tilting, her ponytail swaying along with it, "I've heard different stories - that you're really nice... that you're a total jerk..."

"Ouch, that'll hurt a man's feelings," I laughed lightly at her, "What does it seem like to you?"

"I don't even know you that well." She argued, immaturely, but a smile was still spread across her lips.

"Well, change that . . ." I suggested, giving her a slight wink, then heading towards the back doors.

I could feel her eyes still on me as I headed back into the gymnasium.

I couldn't keep those eyes out of my mind even when I began to practice.

_Gabriella_ . . .

* * *

_END OF CHAPTER_


	5. Its Just So Hard

**TROY**

For once, I had a rather peaceful night. Sure, my legs felt like they were about to fall off, and the cuts on my back only burned occasionally, but my father and his gruesome fiancé were nowhere to be found. I wasn't sure whether I should have celebrated or worried.

I worked on my French homework, something I've always struggled with. I could roll my tongue just fine, I just always forgot things right after they were taught.

We were learning pointless objects such as a _table_ (une table), and a _pen_ (un stylo). Remembering the words was never the challenge. The challenge was figuring out whether they were masculine or feminine (un or une).

I started French this year though I should have taken it freshmen year. However, during my freshmen year, I messed up dramatically, flunking Spanish 1. Yeah, I was never one for foreign languages.

I knew if I wanted to make it to college, I was going to have to work my ass off to get my grades up to all A's.

So far, that was the case. I was getting A's in all of my classes. I was never boastful about my grades though. I've never been in AP classes, otherwise, yeah, I'd probably brag. I felt pretty stupid being in the ignorant classes with my friends, but I dealt with it.

They would make fun of me horrendously if they knew I was anything near smart. See, basketball players were all about the aggression, not the brilliance. And most people in my school thought we were dumbasses. I'm not kidding. We were known as the "blockheaded basketball players" who only cared about two things: our basketball and our penises.

Well, my friends might have felt that way, but I didn't. Yeah, my penis sometimes made decisions for me, but that I couldn't help that. I'm human, you know.

Speaking of which. . . I do have to recite what happened today in Drama Arts.

I was just sitting there, tediously scribbling on my notebook. In Darbus' class, you'd do anything to keep yourself awake. I didn't want to fall asleep again. I knew if I didn't distract myself, I'd be down in a second.

Chad was making comments about some basketball he watched on television last night. I think he was talking about the Lakers game, but I'm not positive. My mind was elsewhere. Yeah, I was always sidetracked. I could never keep my mind on one thing individually. I had to literally strain myself to pay attention.

My eyes snapped up from the trivial marks I had drawn on my notebook. Two figures were passing me and one looked ultimately familiar. It was that girl from practice yesterday. I tried to remember her name. Gabriella, I think it was. It was so old-fashioned; the name reminded me of a queen or something. But with this girl, her name fitted her perfectly.

She was walking with Kelsi Nielson, Ryan Evans' girlfriend. I couldn't avert my eyes away from her the moment I seen her. Something was so different about her. I felt like a jackass for not noticing her before. Had she been in my drama arts class this entire time?

She wore a vibrant teal-colored dress that didn't meet her knees. It was like a summer dress. I felt an impulse at the glance of her exotically tan legs. They were sexy. Over it, she wore a small white sweater that was unbuttoned, revealing the dresses' neckline and her cleavage. Her shoes were squeaky clean and white, flats. But strangely, it's her face and smile that lured me in.

She was laughing with Kelsi and her eyes brightened when she was diverted. I was so used to green and blue eyes. Her eyes were a dark chocolate. And her hair freely ran down her back like a waterfall. She held her books to her chest as she walked with Kelsi.

I wanted her eyes to face me before she took her seat. I bit my bottom lip, eager for her to flicker those gorgeous eyes at me.

I must have been _really_ desperate - seeking a girl out that I barely knew. I didn't know, really. She was cute. And it was in a more natural, simple way. She didn't try to look good - it just happened. I knew I couldn't be blind. Other guys must have thought the same. Yeah, she may have been one of the smartest girls in the school, hanging out with the "science geeks" like Kelsi and Ryan . . . but I was never that concerned about stereotypes anyways, like I've mentioned.

She seemed like one of those girls you'd see in church, next to her flawless, conservative family. She'd be the one to yell at you for talking too loud, or the one to calm you down when you were raging in anger. She also seemed like the type of girl that would make you forget your worries, just at a glimpse of her adorable smile.

And then, her eyes noticed me. I didn't even have the chance to breathe before I gave her a grin. It seemed to come as an essential Troy Bolton reaction, too. I felt kind of moronic for doing it at first, but I couldn't control myself. I then did something only do with girls I wanted to get with.

I winked at her.

Her lips departed, a mixture of shock and pleasure appearing on them. Her eyes didn't stray and I heard Kelsi persuading her to go sit down.

By now, I could feel Chad and Zeke's eyes on my back, probably dying to survey me. Gabriella must have noticed their bizarre stares. The look vanished from her face and she strolled passed me, heading towards her seat in the very back of the room. I kept my eyes on her, slightly leaning back in my seat.

"Mr. Bolton, I'd encourage you to take a picture, but cameras aren't allowed in school."

I realized that Ms. Darbus was standing in front of me, her arms crossed, irritated.

A few students snickered as I turned my head to face her, silently turning a dark shade of red.

"Ms. D, you know I'd love to take a picture of you and Miss Montez, I mean, both of you look splendid today." I responded, coolly, leaning back in my seat to avoid the embarrassment she was trying to spill on me.

I shifted my eyes towards the back of the room and Gabriella gave me a bizarre smile, her lips curving to the side.

"Oh, how delightful . . . now, shall we get on with Drama Arts?" Ms. Darbus suggested, rolling her eyes at my remark.

* * *

"So, Gabriella Montez is the lucky woman?"

I rolled my eyes turning to face Zeke, who was snickering like a jackass. He was wearing his usual pair of jeans and a yellow polo.

"Man, I was put on the spot, you know how it is."

"Dude, you were so checking her out." He had a stern look on his face that proved he wasn't going to leave me alone about this.

"Yeah, alright, I talked to her yesterday during practice. I think she's cute. Not a big deal, man." I told him, indifferently.

"_Big_ deal, yo . . . you know she hangs out with that gay mother fucker, right?" He reminded me.

"Man, you keep calling him gay, but honestly, he has a girlfriend, so I don't think he's gay." I defended, shutting my locker door and facing him.

"True, but he still does yoga and shit, so I dunno, he seems pretty gay to me. But, I mean, Gabriella's hot, yeah, but man, there's so many other sluts waiting for you. You know she ain't gonna get you anything."

Yeah, I somehow figured that out. She seemed too innocent for anything _too_ dirty. But I hadn't even thought of that yet. I mean, I hardly even knew her. I just found her interesting, different. I never said I was gonna jump in bed with her. I never said anything like that.

"I know that," I assured him, "doesn't mean I can't talk to her."

"True," Zeke agreed, "You're not gonna be late for practice again today are you?"

"No . . ."

"Where were you anyways? Banging some chick?" He asked, chuckling.

"My whole life doesn't revolve around girls, you know." I answered, beginning to walk down the hallway with him.

"However, yesterday may have been an exception." I lied through my teeth, not wanting him to know the _real_ reason.

Come to think of it, my friends really don't know me at all.

"Aw, shit. Who was it? Was it Tori? She's hot."

"I can't tell you that, man, it's a secret." I chuckled, smiling at a group of girls who passed us, waving to me enthusiastically.

"You know, I hate the way that chicks are obsessed with you in this school. It's sick, man. I mean, and you don't even appreciate it."

"You act like the girls are _so_ interesting. Most of them are just annoying. Take for example, that one girl, Alisa or whatever her name was . . . she was hot and then she took her clothes off. My fantasies were ruined, man."

We both laughed.

"Yeah, you said some girl had a jungle growing in her pants. That's not even normal, man." He elbowed me.

"Yeah, I felt like I was in Jurassic Park, I'm shocked dinosaurs didn't jump out and eat me." I jested as we headed towards Jason's locker.

I slapped him on the back and he jumped up in horror, obviously not expecting that.

"Dude, chill, Jay, it's just us." Zeke said, stealing a Playboy magazine from Jason's locker.

Jason blushed, "Hey! That's mine."

"Damn," Zeke whistled, flipping to the first page and nodding towards me, "Check out those titties man."

"Man, that's gross; you can tell her boobs are as unrealistic as her tan." I told him; slightly wincing at the girl he exposed who happened to be unclothed, fake, perky C cups looking back at us.

"Aw, come on, guys! You always steal my magazines." Jason pouted like a child as Zeke and I went through the magazine, Zeke flipping the pages.

"Fuck, I don't _care_ if they're not real. Boobs are boobs, man." Zeke commented, his eyes practically burning holes in the pages.

"Hey boys," We were interrupted by a familiar, golden-haired girl with legs to kill and penetrating green eyes that could kill a man had they wanted to.

I felt a heat in between my legs as Zeke slammed the magazine shut and shoved it into his bag, ignoring Jason's timid mumbles.

"What are you all up to?" She was leaning against a locker, her wonderful curves against it, driving my penis into an erupt madness.

"Hey Tori," I greeted her, becoming composed.

"How've you been?" I asked avoiding the looks my friends gave me, signaling I needed to "charm the living hell out of her".

"I've been good, kind of lonely, but good." She responded, inching towards me so she could swipe her finger across my v-neck.

Her voice was sweet as candy and I couldn't keep my heart rate to its normal speed. Zeke and Jason were just gaping from behind me. They didn't understand why I didn't just grab her and fuck her in the janitor's closet.

"That sucks."

I felt my eyes jolting up and down her body. Her tiny jean skirt rode up to the riff of her thighs, her shirt a bright pink tank top that revealed her breasts in every way possible.

She compressed herself towards me and I could practically breathe her in as she exhaled. She was chewing gum obnoxiously loud as she moved her lips towards my ear.

I felt my insides jumping as she whispered, "I'm only one call away, babe."

She revealed her faultless pair of white teeth, before continuing down the hallway as if none of that had ever happened.

I watched her disappear into the crowd of students.

"Holy shit. . ." Zeke proclaimed his eyes still wide as he turned to face me.

"Dude, she is like . . . ugh."

"I know, man." I told him.

"So, are you . . . going to . . .?" Jason's eyes were now on me, expecting me to say yes eagerly.

"I don't really have the time."

Both of their jaws seemed to drop to the floor.

"What? If you guys like her, go talk to her, I really don't care."

To be honest, I really didn't care. Yeah, she got me into an emotional stir when she was around . . . mostly because she was drop-dead gorgeous from her head down to her toes, but I couldn't bring myself to actually _call_ her. I wasn't nervous.

I needed to focus on my grades and basketball right now. I needed to get my head back into the game. I didn't need a girl _all_ the time. I did have a hand for heaven's sakes!

Yeah, that's probably a bit too personal, sorry.

"Dude, you've banged so many chicks, and yet, you don't want the best one of them all."

I laughed, hollowly, "Man, it's alright. We gotta get to practice though." I told Zeke.

"Hey! I want my magazine back."

"Peace out, man." Zeke began to walk away, Jason yelling after him.

I chuckled, bringing my books to my side.

* * *

I got to practice on time today. We were forced to run ten laps, as usual.

Chad, Zeke and I lead the runners. We were always the fastest. Jason was a few inches behind us. Everybody else seemed to group together while running. For us, it wasn't that big of a deal. We were used to running - our legs were cut out for the job. We rarely even had a sweat unless it was really hot outside.

Sadly, today could have been one hundred degrees. All three of us were about to pass out from the intoxicating heat spraying onto us.

My face was drenched in perspiration and I could barely even breathe. I heard Coach Lautner yelling, telling us to push ourselves. I looked to the guys dawdling next to me. They looked worse than I did, and I've been getting thrown around by my father's fiancé's bodybuilder friends for the passed few months. I felt a sudden rush of adrenaline and energy as I pulled my legs up to sprint around the track.

I heard the Coach shouting, impressed by my drive as I finished my final lap, making the other guys look like a bunch of weak pussies. I nearly passed out from the lack of water.

In my black basketball shorts and soaked white t-shirt I jogged up to the coach. He handed me a water bottle and I poured it all over myself, my mouth dry from the intensity of the environment.

Chad and Zeke joined me, finally finishing a few minutes after I did. They seemed just as exhausted, breathing heavily and clenching their knees in pain.

"Dude you just made us look like shit, you know." Zeke wheezed, airlessly.

"Sorry guys," I let out a huge breath of air, practically falling to the ground, "I think I'm gonna die." I held onto my shaking knees, desperate for oxygen.

Pretty soon everybody was finished and the coach was bringing us back into the gymnasium for practice.

"You guys see what Troy did back there? That's what I wanna see. I wanna see you _challenge_ yourself." He told us, giving me a look of approval.

I felt a wave of confidence from this. His eyes shifted towards Gabriella, Kelsi, and Ryan. Kelsi and Ryan were lazily sitting on the court's tile, breathing maniacally. Gabriella was clutching her side but was still standing.

"Miss Montez, Mr. Evans, and Miss Nielson, less talk, more walk."

"I wasn't talking." Gabriella added in, looking at him in disbelief, "They were behind me."

Some of the players looked at her incredulously. Was she talking back to Lautner? I tried to send her a look of warning, but she seemed too furious to notice. Maybe she was upset because she was actually trying to get the coaches' approval and her friends were being lazy.

"Are you talking back to me, Miss Montez? I said, pick up the speed, or you're done from the team." Lautner snorted, giving her death eyes.

She was cute when she was upset, I'll say that. Her eyebrows knotted, "Sir . . . I really have been trying! I swear I've been trying really hard!" She suddenly shrieked to him.

I heard a few of my friends chuckling, as if mocking her.

"Well, it doesn't show, so try a bit harder." He commented back to her, folding his arms and rolling his eyes.

Gabriella looked defeated and I could see the irritation in her beautiful eyes. I almost wished that Lautner wouldn't have been so hard. He didn't have to give her such a hard time. She was new to this.

"It's alright, sweet cheeks, maybe next time." I heard Zeke taunt.

I watched him, Chad, and Jason break into a compilation of hysterical laughter.

The other team members were heading out since practice was now over.

Gabriella's eyes were filled with anguish and I felt a sudden annoyance build up into my muscles.

I walked towards my friends, who were still laughing, "Guys, that's enough."

"Something wrong, Romeo? Got something in your britches?" Zeke asked, snickering.

"Shut up, man, you know that's rude, give them some credit, they haven't played basketball as long as we have." I told him, muttering lowly so Gabriella couldn't hear.

I could feel her eyes on my back though.

"I jes wanna ask Gabriella where she got those tight ass shoes, actually." He said loud, loud enough for her to hear.

She obviously noticed the sarcasm in his voice. She grimaced, and then followed behind Kelsi and Ryan, who were heading towards the exit of the gym.

I groaned, blatantly as my friends chuckled.

"Man, Troy, he was just kidding, no need to get angry." Chad patted me on the back, as if trying to make me feel better.

He then headed towards the exit, Jason following after him, giving me a small wave.

"Are you alright man? I was just kidding, you know that. You're getting pissed off and everything." Zeke looked at me with concern, furrowing his eyebrows as if he was trying to figure out why I was reacting this way.

Honestly, I'm not sure why I was so mad. I really just didn't like the fact that they were laughing at her. I knew what it was like to be laughed at. I knew what it was like to watch kids burn into flames of nothing too though. Nobody deserved pain . . . nobody deserved someone giving them a hard time.

I watched Zeke walk away and I felt my head throb. In my mind, I could see the blood; I could hear the cries for help, the tears of affliction. I felt the horror creep up inside of me. I felt the burns on my back, the hurt ripping at my heart. I felt a sudden emptiness, a sudden lost feeling, like I needed someone, anyone.

But instead of doing anything about the bottled feelings in my soul, I jogged towards the locker room, took a shower, and got dressed, as if it never happened, as if I never felt the welting.

The hot water surged against my body, giving me a small satisfaction. The satisfaction was then replaced with bitterness. The locker room seemed deserted now. It was all quiet and the silence almost made me wanna scream. The shadows of the lockers increased my heart beat. I inhaled sharply, my hair drenched in the liquid descending from the shower head. My fist slammed into the wall, angrily. Why did I have to deal with this? Why me? Why not someone else?

Not being able to hold it any more, I let out a loud grunt. It all came out after that. I couldn't feel the tears coming down my face but I knew they were there. The water scraped them away, my soul now numb with nothing. I felt nothing, just a cold void inside of my chest.

I turned off the shower, receiving the eerie peacefulness.

I grabbed the towel and began to put my clothes on, drying my hair with the towel.

* * *

_END OF CHAPTER_


	6. Got Me On The Edge

**GABRIELLA**

I have no idea what lead me into doing such a stupid thing to be honest.

You're not supposed to even argue with the basketball coach, yet alone frown at him. I knew I wasn't cut out for this. I just knew it. I was never the athletic girl in school. I was never good at those kinds of things. I couldn't impress the coach no matter what.

I was just a girl. In his eyes, a girl could never be half as strong as a guy. I didn't exactly disagree, for most guys were stronger. I just couldn't stand the fact that I was actually working hard and he gave me little credit for it.

Kelsi and Ryan really displayed their distaste when they began to run. They ran at such a slow pace. I knew that they could try harder; they could run a bit faster.

I was eager to impress the coach; I was determined to get on his good side. As usual, I didn't. He wasn't a teacher - he was a coach. I couldn't just strive and succeed. This was much different. It was like attempting to move a mountain. It seemed almost impossible to meet up to his standards. And well, I was a complete perfectionist and I couldn't stand disappointing people.

Zeke didn't mend the pain by calling out to me, labeling me "sweet cheeks" and laughing hysterically afterwards.

I wasn't a complete idiot. I knew how that group worked, especially Zeke. He was making fun of me. I guess I could understand why. I made myself look like a fool by talking back to the coach. I almost felt hurt that he didn't just welcome me. I wasn't used to that. Zeke just rubbed it in.

The next day at school went by quickly.

Kelsi, Ryan and I headed into drama arts as usual. All of us really disliked listening to Ms. Darbus and her lectures, but we had no escape. We signed up for this class. We were aware of this.

I headed to my usual corner while Kelsi and Ryan broke free of each other's grip.

They looked so happy together, so complete, as if nothing could ever tear them apart. I was ultimately jealous of that. I wanted something like that. And it wasn't like I haven't had my opportunities. I may have been the smartest girl in my class and I may have been captain of the science geeks, but I still got asked out from time to time. I wasn't _that_ bad, you know. Usually there was a problem with the boy though - perverted, weird, obsessive . . . the list went on.

The basketball players made their entrance a big deal, as usual. They were loud and laughing at each other, as if everything was hilarious. They reminded me of little girls, but I wouldn't dare say that out loud. I mean to make up for that, I'll say they were all really good-looking, especially as a clique, but I really hated folding into someone just because they were attractive.

My eyes focused up to Ms. Darbus who was beginning to speak about a dialogue we would be doing that had something to do with Julius Caesar.

She strutted around the classroom like a soldier of some sort, ignoring the basketball players who were, as usual, talking to each other.

Chad was whispering things into Troy's ear. Troy was chuckling.

Then something a bit strange happened - Troy's bright blue eyes flickered my way, his body slightly turning in his seat.

Ms. Darbus was at the other side of the room, too captivated by her own words to notice this "eye contact" he was attempting to make with me. Chad didn't seem to notice Troy's eyes and kept on talking but Troy's eyes didn't leave mine.

I felt a strange, nervousness when he didn't look away. His tongue traced a small trail on his upper lip and I felt a waver at my heart. Okay, God, I'd have to be stupid not to find him attractive. I looked elsewhere, trying to get rid of these weird "second grade crush" type of feelings. This was high school, not elementary school. I mean, yes he looked good in that Wildcats zip-up hoodie and those straight-legged jeans. And why the hell were vans so hot now?

I had an encounter with him the other day and he seemed different than I've ever expected. He wasn't anything like I've heard. He wasn't self-absorbed. He seemed to play off a cool confidence but it wasn't overdone. And his eyes were bluer than I thought. Up close, they were almost tranquilizing. There was something about the way he presented himself, the way he walked, talked, moved. He pulled off this amazing laidback attitude I couldn't begin to understand. He just seemed worry free, like nothing mattered in the world. Yet he seemed real. He didn't seem to fake off the niceness in his tone. He seemed like an actual, normal human being.

I almost couldn't believe that he and Zeke were friends.

He _did_ have a way of tugging at girls' heart strings though. He seemed like the guy that could talk his way out of anything, the guy that could get any girl he ever wanted. He possessed a charismatic charm that I discovered within just a few minutes of talking to him. And then he winked at me.

I realized why half of the school's population was obsessed with him.

He looked back to his friends, our eye contact recessing. The thing about that look he gave me, it wasn't even a smile or a grin. It appeared to be just a simple look. I couldn't read it, I couldn't understand it. There was no semblance of a smile either. It was just an indifferent glance. And yet there was some kind of mystery to it. There was an impulse. He was biting his bottom lip strenuously, as if he was just trying to figure something out.

Eventually, Darbus' monotonous lectures came to an end when the final bell of the day rang.

Kelsi and Ryan followed me to my locker, as usual, talking to each other. They hardly acknowledged me but that was nothing new. Ever since I got them to join basketball, they've been a bit cold to me. They thought the idea was senseless, that we were just wasting our time. They obviously blamed me.

* * *

It was Friday. East High's hallways were a bit louder than usual and people were hurrying to get out of school as soon as possible. Even Ryan and Kelsi abandoned me faster than usual. They didn't even say goodbye.

I sighed, sick of my lame, colorless life. We didn't have practice on Friday's of course. But I was smarter and I caught on faster than most - I decided to head to the gym to practice a little while it was empty. I even brought my own pair of shorts and tank top for the occasion.

By the time I exited the girls' restrooms, fully dressed, the hallways were dead silent, as if nobody was around. It felt good, being alone. I've always enjoyed independence, despite how dorky that sounded.

But when I approached the gym, I instantly realized I wasn't alone.

I stood by the doors and examined the figure that was dribbling, aiming for the hoop. It wasn't a surprise to me that it was Troy Bolton. I've always heard that he didn't do anything besides play basketball. It was his life.

He had the same outfit from today on and he had a look of frustration on his face. He was so genetically gifted it seemed unrealistic.

He was the only one in the gym. As he dribbled the ball, the sound echoed across the walls. And every time he made his aim, he missed horrendously. I wondered where his concentration was.

I slowly advanced into the gym and immediately, he turned to face me, looking slightly confused and possibly shocked at my appearance. Maybe he was just amused because I actually put on a skimpy pair of shorts and a tank top. Maybe he was dirty-minded. Or maybe he just didn't understand why I would take time out of my "productive" life to play basketball. Or maybe he just wasn't thinking at all.

Neither of us said anything.

I averted my eyes from him as I made my way towards the hoop on the opposite side of the gym. I could feel him just staring at me, as if expecting an explanation. His lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but he didn't.

I clasped the basketball I brought with me, my eyes lifting to the hoop standing in front of me. With all my strength, I shot for the hoop - missing by a mile as it slammed into the lockers and made a rather large ruckus.

I felt embarrassed. And he started to laugh. This was the first time I've heard him laugh, at least, nearby me. The harmony of it amplified the gym walls - the melodic sound becoming delightful. It was as if playing a song on the piano. It reminded me of when I used to play "My Heart Will Go On" on my mother's piano. Not only did I feel similar feelings of allurement and excitement, I felt my heart slamming against my chest. Nothing could be more beautiful than his laugh. It was just that great.

I looked back to him, raising an eyebrow. He silenced and a faint smile appeared across his lips. I took in the way he stood so calmly, the basketball protectively underneath one of his arms. And then he did something I wasn't expecting - he approached me, the toil on his lips lingering.

"That was horrible." He told me.

"Was that supposed to be an aim?" He chuckled, as if attempting to mock me.

He may have been. I wasn't offended. I knew I sucked.

"Don't rub it in or anything."

His smile receded.

"What are you doing here, Gabriella?" He asked, striking a chord in my heart.

He remembered my name. He remembered _my_ name. How was that possible?

"I'm . . . practicing, what do you think?"

I tried to act casual. I felt stupid though. "Practicing"? I didn't even know how to dribble correctly.

He seemed rather amused, his lips returning to a smile.

"Most kids don't spend their Friday's practicing basketball, especially in school."

"Most kids waste their weekends pouring alcohol down their throats and sharing saliva with strangers."

I've always been more sarcastic about some things. When it came to people wasting their lives away on alcohol, drugs, and sex . . . I just couldn't stand it.

"I've never been like most kids."

I was always the "outcast", the "wallflower", the "freak show". But did it even matter?

"Yeah, me neither . . ."

He took a shot, angling his posture towards the hoop. His comment confused me.

He seemed pretty down to earth to me. He didn't recite the periodic table in his mind during Chemistry. He didn't fall flat on his face while walking up the stairs. He didn't mess up his dialogues in Ms. Darbus' class (nor had he ever ran out of the room, almost throwing up from all the eyes staring blankly back at him). He probably didn't know what floccinaucinihilipilification meant. I have no idea why I did. He's most-likely not a virgin. He probably didn't have the entire bible memorized. And no, he probably didn't have Webster's Dictionary Integrated and Thesaurus on his desk.

Ah, I hated listing the things that made me freakishly awkward. The list seemed endless.

I realized that his aim had made the hoop, flawlessly.

I watched, enviously. "You're so good." I mumbled.

"That's actually the first hoop I've made today." He confessed, glancing at me.

He had such beautiful eyes. They stirred at my insides relentlessly, but at the same time - I could feel serenity from them. He just seemed so . . . easygoing. Any intimidation I felt from him soon vanished.

"Well, I haven't made _any_."

"That's because you aim like a girl."

He had the basketball cradled in his arms, a smile never falling from his face. I enjoyed the way the gym's lighting danced across his features. There was something I also have noticed about him though. At times, he'd look away, a rather cryptic, remoteness appearing in his eyes. He had done this a few times while talking to me. It was almost as if something was bothering him. Or maybe he had seen something moving outside. Or maybe he just was a very mysterious person. It shouldn't have mattered.

I looked directly at him, almost insulted, "What's _that_ supposed to mean? I am a girl."

"It means you aim like a girl, duh." His eyes seemed to sparkle as he smiled, humorously.

I could tell he was just joking with me. It seemed easy for him to warm up to someone. He seemed rather talkative, and he refrained from awkward silences. I wasn't entirely stupid for finding him rather normal. He was normal. He wasn't like what I had thought. And with him, it seemed the words came out. I felt like I grew up with him. I've never met someone who looked me straight in the eyes - or looked at me even when I wasn't looking at them.

"Gabriella, I'm joking."

I looked up from my dirty tennis shoes. When our eyes met, he lifted his chin a little bit, his eyebrows arching for just a second. It was the sexiest look I've ever seen in my life.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be out with your basketball buddies?" I suddenly asked, the thought hitting me with a rather large impulse.

His eyes trailed away, leaving me only with the angle view of the blue in his eyes.

"Well, like you said earlier, I mean, pouring alcohol down my throat and making out with strangers . . . not exactly my favorite thing."

His eyes went morbid; completely losing the positive attitude he had a minute before.

"So, you're folding over to the dark side?"

His eyes moved back to me, the distance he had in his eyes disappearing instantly. Hm - it was as if he was always thinking. I hated how easy it seemed to talk to him. Was this why girls liked him so much?

He dramatically took in a heap of breath, "That's a pretty ballsy deal there, Gabriella. I really love how suddenly being _above_ the influence is going to the dark side."

The placid smile that formed across his lips could have brought delight to any person. And he said my name after almost every sentence.

"Well it's obvious to me that your friends dislike me. So I guess to them it would be the dark side." It seemed like such a deadly statement, like this could risk the peaceful aura between us.

It happened before with other people. Guys didn't like it when their friends don't like you. They feel you're not good enough. At least, the jackass guys thought that.

I watched him run one of his hands through his messy, dark brown hair.

"Yeah, that's just Zeke. He's like that with everyone. Don't take it personally. He's an ass."

The words rolled off his tongue so light and smooth - as if he was born to be a public speaker. Even the word 'ass' came out of his lips like the sound of my favorite song. It was _that_ good.

"Well, I can tell he thinks I'm a freaky science geek." I chuckled, buoyantly, as if it didn't matter.

It really didn't. "I guess that's understandable. I'm a bit shocked you're nothing like him."

He was taking a hustle for the hoop - his arms swiftly stretching out to make the hoop's strings, falling in with little effort done by him. He acted as if this wasn't a big deal, as if he hadn't just made the hoop with such a careless attempt.

"I'm not one to pick on people. Everybody is different, you know? Why judge someone when you don't even know them? You don't know what's going on in their life or how your comments make them feel."

I felt a shiver at the emotionless look appearing on his face - his jaw line becoming rigid and his lips moving apart with disgust. For a moment, it seemed as if he wasn't even there with me anymore. It was as if he had just gotten lost within his thoughts somewhere. His eyes were focused on the floor, resentment scowling at the gym's floor.

I didn't even know how to respond. I just watched him - trying to understand him, where he was coming from, why he was so deeply upset. It wasn't a big deal. I really didn't mind what Zeke thought of me. It seemed irrelevant even bringing this matter up.

The response never came. He just glided across the floor and fluently made hoops - some kind of aggression, some kind of malignity being released as he breathed so thickly, you could hear it echo across the gymnasium. After igniting the room with his frustration, he stopped. He just stopped, breathing heavily, his eyes meeting mine, almost guiltily. I could detect a hint of perspiration forming in his face, but it never managed to fall to his eyebrows or further below.

"Sorry . . . I had a rough week."

He stroked his hand through his hair again. "I need to get out of here."

I watched him, a dreadful sigh coming from his lips as he bit his bottom lip harshly and looked more deranged than any person I've ever met before. Maybe I said the wrong thing. I wasn't sure.

It seemed whenever he was aggravated, his nose tended to rumple, his eyebrows narrowing. He never met your eyes; he just glared at the ground, as if it was the problem. He seemed attractive at every angle, but there was something that depressed me about this.

"I'll see you Monday, Gabriella." His voice rehearsed my name like a lullaby before he propelled the basketball towards the hoop one final time.

It missed erratically and I heard him groan in response.

My eyes followed him as he headed out of the gymnasium, the doors slamming dangerously on the way out. I played the scene in my mind over and over again, not sure of how to perceive it. He seemed unlike his group of followers but he also had temper. It was almost frightening.

* * *

Weekends were never my cup of tea. I've mentioned I have a small group of friends. Kelsi and Ryan weren't my only friends - I had a few neighborhood friends who came over sometimes. Our parents were good friends and sometimes one of the families would have a cookout.

My parents made great money. Our house seemed larger and more glamorous than most. I mean, I had my own balcony. I considered myself pretty lucky.

I wasn't consumed in things like designer names or anything like that. I spent most of my money on little things - a movie ticket, cosmetics, hair ties. My wardrobe consisted of strictly conservative clothes. I didn't like exposing too much. I liked to obtain a classier look. I hated how the sluts in EH wore belly shirts practically. They tried to show off, to show what the others lacked of. These were the girls that Troy, Chad, Zeke, and Jason were usually impassioned by.

The house was deserted. My parents always worked nights - both of them being involved in medical careers. My mother was a nurse, my father a doctor. It seemed like fate, right?

Did I want to get involved with medicine? Goodness, no.

My parents and I had an okay relationship. It was nothing I could complain about. We'd talk about things, but we weren't super close or anything. They were gone half the time so I was left on my own a lot. Like I've said once before, I loved independence, the peace and quiet. I didn't fear the night. I didn't fear being alone, in a huge house, by myself. I was fine with it.

I let my ebony-colored hair down to the end of my back, throwing on a pair of PJ pants and a tank top.

I headed downstairs to the living-room, plopping down on the sofa and flipping on the forty inch plasma television in front of me. I sat and watched reruns of _Grey's Anatomy_, hopeless for something better to do with my time. I had this weird, awkward obsession with Patrick Dempsey. And that wouldn't go away.

Seriously, you know those men that can pull off facial hair? Yeah, that's real beauty. When a guy can pull off the edgy, hard-ass look, you know well enough they can pull off anything. Plus, he was so Dr. McDreamy. Yes, I should stop watching that show. I have no idea why I even told you this, you probably don't even care. I have this problem . . . I ramble on about things nobody cares about.

As I was hardcore concentrated on the amazing show in front of me, the phone started ringing. I practically jumped in shock at the noise. It had been all silent besides the show.

"Hello?" I never liked answering the phone, especially when my parents were gone.

They had these good friends, and all of them were so obnoxiously arrogant, you could hear it from just the way they spoke over the phone. They had that English, I-have-my-nose-up-in-the-air type of waver to their voice. I couldn't stand it. Yes, they've obtained riches in their lives. Okay, they were successful.

Get over your selfish pride.

"Hey, what's up?"

Fortunately for me, it was just my friend from across the street, TJ Kessler.

I guess you could laugh about it. Or just be like, "Oh, how cute, neighborhood friends!"Well, to be frank, I didn't even know how I became friends with him, actually. He was home-schooled (probably a good thing) and somehow, our parents met up (like I said, my friends have like family cookouts), and we became really close - close as in, best friends forever, like brother and sister, that kind of close.

You could imagine him as an athletic blonde haired boy (he wasn't really pale, but he was a bit pale) with azure-colored eyes. I think the most eccentric thing about him was his hair. As it grew, it turned into massive curls. It looked so much better cut though. Honestly, with all the curls, he looked like a giant sheepdog.

"Not much, I just got done watching _Grey's Anatomy_," I chuckled as I could almost envision him rolling his eyes, "what are you up to, Teeg?"

"Ah, good deal, good deal . . . nothing really, sitting here, bored. I wanted to see what my neighbor was up to, of course."

He sounded a bit tired, and definitely bored. "So, what'd you do tonight?"

"I did . . . absolutely nothing." I sighed. "Who would have guessed?"

"Well, you did something; you watched that lame-ass TV show, that's something." He jested.

"Hey, what did that TV show ever do to you?" I whined, laying my head against the edge of the couch, allowing my feet to meet the other end.

"You're totally right, I need a good reason. How's about . . . say, _Scrubs_ kicks its ass?"

I rolled my eyes, "I don't think so. That kid has nothing on Patrick Dempsey."

"Ah, geez, Gab, I thought he was pretty hot."

"Shut up, TJ." My eyes closed as I began to laugh.

"Hey, it's straight; I mean everybody has some gay fantasy. There's no reason to get all hot and bothered about it."

I could hear him snickering from the other side of the phone.

"Does your girlfriend know about your "gay fantasies"?" I asked, my eyebrow rising as if on cue.

"Of course, she thinks Angelina Jolie's hot. We settled this the other day." He answered, good-naturedly.

That was the thing with TJ. He was like a brother to me. We could talk about things that were almost embarrassing. We could share stories that seemed death-threatening. He could always read me. And I could always read him. If I wanted to talk, he was the person I'd talk to.

His girlfriend, Carlie Weaver, well she was a good friend of mine, also. TJ and she started getting together when he and I were becoming close. He kept talking about her, urging me to meet her. He thought she was the most precious thing on the face of this planet. And she didn't think any less of him. It seemed like another match made from heaven, like Kelsi and Ryan.

"How are you two, anyways?" I inquired, the sudden thought coming to me.

"We're good, as always." He told me, confidence in his tone.

"How's your situation? You got anyone yet?"

I laughed hollowly, "Not a chance . . . guys at this school think smart girls are lame."

"Why?" He asked. "Why is that lame?"

I took a breath, resting my eyelids for a second.

"I have no idea. I mean, after joining the basketball team, Kelsi and Ryan began ignoring me, and then this one kid at my school . . . his name is Zeke, he always messes with people . . . he just seems so self-obsessed, it's disgusting . . . and. . ."

"Hey, relax, Gab." TJ chuckled through the phone.

"You're like rambling. Forget the kid. He's not worth your time. None of those guys are if that's what they're like."

"Well . . ."

My mind suddenly slipped to Troy, who wasn't acting half as domineering as the rest. He showed me some compassion, some equality, like maybe I was "good enough" for him to speak with me.

"I mean, there's this guy who's kind of not like that."

"Really? What's his name?"

TJ always talked with me about these things, also. He was determined that I was going to find my Prince Charming. He wasn't overprotective or anything like that either. He was just kind-hearted and always knew what to say to make me feel better about my absent love life.

"Well, um . . . Troy Bolton."

* * *

_END OF CHAPTER_


	7. Pushin', Pushin'

**TROY**

The guys had coaxed me into going to a movie that night.

I really didn't have a say-so. My dad and Sara would be out all night doing God knows what. I was regaining my sanity slowly but surely. That was only because she wasn't tormenting me. Still, it wasn't like I was sleeping at night. I couldn't. That was impossible.

I still felt responsible for the children's lives. I felt like I could have done something - found the guts to say something. But I doubt I'd ever be that ballsy. Really, that was exposing myself to the world - exposing that weak, vulnerable Troy Bolton they couldn't ever see. I wasn't that guy. I couldn't be.

_"Boy you got a problem, and you ain't foolin' no one but yourself._ _You're like a hot revolver._ _But you ain't killin' no one but yourself."_

Lil Wayne's "Hot Revolver'" ranted across the speakers of my truck.

You know, it's funny how Zeke and Chad had me converted to rap all of a sudden. I was completely against the idea of listening to anything that was too "rabid". I liked the calm, chill music like John Mayer and Coldplay. I was always for the alternative and the acoustic. I wasn't into the loud-blaring-speakers type of thing. That is, until I got introduced to Lil Wayne, Ludacris, and the shit that actually didn't sound like a bunch of cuss words put into a song. Yeah, they had their moments, but the beat was good. And sometimes, the songs actually had purpose. Who would have guessed that rap music could be so cool?

I threw on a black button up shirt that rolled up before my elbows, a pair of straight legged jeans, and a pair of black vans with shoe laces. (Usually they were slip-on, but I didn't feel up to it).

I rolled up to the movies. Most-likely anyone who was around probably heard me. My truck was loud and a piece of shit, plus my speakers were blasting Lil Wayne. You know those annoying cars that yield next to you at a red light and their speakers are so loud, the entire car rumbles? You practically wanna kill them because it's so obnoxious. Yeah, at this moment, I felt like that's who I was.

I put on a pair of my classic-styled _ray-ban _sunglasses so no one would recognize it was my vehicle that was so loud. I got out of the truck after parking it and headed towards the lobby.

They wanted to see _The Haunting in Connecticut. _I was never one for scary movies, but I didn't object. Honestly, I had nothing better to do.

It wasn't like people were going to think we were a bunch of douches - a bunch of guys walking in together without any girls. Yeah, that was going to look completely normal. But knowing Chad and Zeke, that wouldn't happen. They refused to look gay in any way.

They all waited inside the lobby, leaning against the wall, looking bored out of their minds. Chad wore a dark t-shirt that said _Rockstar_ across it and a pair of baggy blue jeans. He was listening to Zeke who obviously was talking about something.

Zeke had on a t-shirt that had some kind of cartoon on it, with a dark jacket on top and a pair of jeans. He had his arms folded and was mumbling things to Chad.

Jason stood leaned against the wall, looking very unenthusiastic. He wore a gray _Hollister_ t-shirt, a green zip-up hoodie over it, and a pair of jeans. He wasn't participating in the conversation.

I bought my ticket and approached them, receiving some ganders from the girls around me. I was totally used to that. I really didn't understand _why_ girls thought I was so attractive. I mean, I didn't find myself any different from any other blue-eyed, brown-haired kid. But I didn't sweat it.

The group of girls checking me out seemed to giggle at one another, smiling guilelessly at me.

The guys seemed to take notice of this and rolled their eyes as I made my way towards them, my hands in my pockets.

"Bolton, you actually _showed up_." Zeke snickered, mockingly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, let's get this over with. I really hate these kind of movies - they're so cliché and predictable." I muttered, my eyes slanting over towards the girls who were still glancing at me.

I could tell they were trying to be subtle about it, but they really weren't. I gave them a polite smile and they all slightly blushed and giggled neurotically again.

"My God, I wish girls were like that with me." Jason mumbled, despairingly.

"Man, look at them, they're so fucking beautiful," Zeke looked over at the group of girls, "and you're not even gonna try and hit any of them up?"

His eyes look back to me, like I was crazy.

"They're not _that_ hot, man." I rolled my eyes, "Why don't you go hit them up?"

"'Cuz, you dumb-ass, they're checking out _you_, not me." He seemed aggravated by this. "But fuck that, I've got a surprise for all of us." He smirked, contentedly.

"Look, if it's about girls, I'm not for it - I invited Tay anyways." Chad seemed to know exactly where Zeke was going with this.

Zeke groaned, "Dude, what the fuck, Chad? You were jes sayin' how she wasn't giving up anything. You guys have been going out for a year, man."

"I know that," Chad looked irritated, "I love her though. . . I mean, if she wants to wait a little bit, I'll wait."

"That's so. . ."

"That's so nice." Jason cut Zeke off, "I wanna love someone that much. . ."

I found myself sighing loudly, "You're such a douche, Cross."

"Man, I am not!" He pouted, "I mean, don't you two ever wanna just, fall in love?"

"Not really. . ." Zeke and I answered at the same time.

Love seemed . . . well, complicated. It's not like I haven't ever really, really liked a girl or anything. I mean, yeah, I've had some huge crushes. And there were a few girlfriends who I actually said "I love you" to. But it wasn't really honest. I didn't really wanna fall in love at all - especially not now. There were so many guys that gave up their entire lives because they fell in love, _accidentally_ got a girl pregnant, and because they loved that girl so much, they decided they could be an actual father. To me, that was stupid. They were giving up their lives because of some girl who couldn't keep her legs closed for five seconds. It made me sick. And plus, I just hated the way that Chad went out of his way to make Taylor happy, and she couldn't even give the man an hour of pleasure. What was she so afraid of? If they used protection, everything would be alright. She should have given _something_ to the poor guy - he deserved that much.

And it's more than just that. . . I mean, love includes everything - jealousy, fighting. And the idea of actually _hurting_ . . . as in, heartbreak. I mean, I've never really had my heart broken - didn't ever want to.

Taylor had entered the lobby, looking conservative in a pair of white jeans and a blue and white striped shirt that rolled up to the end of her elbows. Her hair was in two pigtails and a headband. The girl was pretty, yeah. She wasn't the usual type you'd see and automatically been like, "Wow, she's hot." But with Chad, she was. I guess it was more of a blind-love thing. She was beautiful in her own little way, I'd guess. To him, though, she was the most precious thing on the entire planet. Sure, his eyes would wander sometimes, but he never found anyone more attractive than her.

She gave him a soft smile and they gave each-other a full on kiss.

I found myself looking back to the "fan group" located on the other side of the lobby.

One of the girls seemed hotter than the rest. I wasn't really looking _too_ hard, I mean, but, I am a guy, so of course, I was looking. She had long, dark-black hair, bright blue eyes. I think her eyes were probably the hottest thing about her . . . besides her body, anyways.

I almost felt an erection just by glancing at her long, thin legs. She wore a pair of short, light black shorts and a shirt that seemed way too flimsy on her. It was a dark, navy-blue. She wore a lot of makeup, but she was so hot . . . she grinned at me as she held her bag on her shoulder.

I couldn't even do anything, I just stared at her.

"I don't think Troy's even with us anymore." I heard Taylor chuckle, as she held onto her boyfriend.

I couldn't just look away. She was like a damn model or something. She looked like that girl from _Transformers_. Oh my God.

"Hoops," I barely even heard Chad as he attempted to get my attention, "_Troy_."

I blinked, realizing I hadn't been responding.

I turned back to my group of friends, slightly flushed, "Uh, what's up?"

"Her name's Mercedes Carter," Zeke smirked, "She's always dreamed of having sex on a counter."

At the idea, I seriously became hard as a rock.

"Guys, she's coming over here." Jason sounded panicked as the dark-haired beauty made her way over towards us - or more specifically, over towards _me_.

I breathed in sharply as she advanced towards me and I could hear the guys chuckling from behind me.

"Hi," She gave me a sweet smile, "You're Troy Bolton, right? I think we have French together."

"Oh, do we?" I tried to regain my cool, charming smile, "Um. . . Mercedes, right?"

I could see Zeke from behind me, elbowing Jason, "Works every time." He whispered with a smirk.

"Some of my friends just call me Mercy," She moved one of her hands through her foxy black hair.

"One of my friends . . . she kind of likes one of your friends." Her smile was teasing me as she nodded towards Zeke, who seemed to be grinning like a madman.

"Well," I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, "I'm sure that could be arranged."

She seemed pleased with this and motioned her group of friends over to us. I realized _this_ must have been Zeke's "surprise". Again, when you're friends with Zeke, you have to have some girl along with you. The guy was just woman-obsessed.

Mercedes smelled like Ralph Lauren's _Hot_ and I felt like I was going to die had she gotten any closer to me. It was so addicting.

Her friends came over and they seemed anything but antisocial. There were two of them - one of them had short, tossed curls and a pair of hazel eyes. The other had shoulder-length amber-colored hair and dark chocolate eyes. They dressed like Mercedes and I could tell they were good friends.

"This is Jessica and Lydia." Mercedes said, signaling towards her two friends who seemed more than anxious to meet me.

"Ahem." Zeke cleared his throat, as if trying to make his existence known.

"These are my friends, Zeke, Jason, Chad and Taylor."

"Jess kind of likes Zeke," Mercedes told me in a subdued voice, "Do you think you could set them up?"

My eyes trailed over to Zeke, who was now animatedly talking to Jessica - or possibly just flirting with her. Yeah, he had this set up beforehand.

"I think they'll be alright." I gave her a forced smile - still distracted by that perfume she wore.

"So, um, Lydia," Jason was trying to start a conversation with the amber-colored girl, as we all headed towards the theater. "Are you a fan of horror films? I've always enjoyed Freddie Krueger and Jason tearing up the streets, you know. I think it's more because Jason and I share the same name or something. . . I mean, that's pretty rad, right?"

I glanced over to Chad who just gave me a pretend look of fear, as if the fear were for Jason. I just laughed lightly; amused that Jason couldn't exactly talk to a girl. Lydia listened to him faithfully though.

Mercedes seemed to be moving closer and closer towards me as we walked towards the theater. I felt a lump at my throat as we got into the theater and Chad and Taylor departed from us - heading towards the back to get enough "privacy". Zeke and Jessica seemed to practically know each other (maybe because they do?), and Zeke was guiding her towards the opposite side of the theater.

"Uh, gosh, d-do you wanna take a seat up there, maybe?" Jason was trying to get Lydia to sit by him.

I watched them, chuckling.

"Troy," Mercedes' voice interrupted my diversion, "I _hate_ sitting alone during scary movies. Do you wanna sit by me in the front? My vision isn't so well."

I ran a hand through my hair - the lights in the theater dimming as the previews began to start. I didn't have much of a choice.

"Yeah, sure, why not?" I gave her a weak smile, trailing behind her - taking in that _amazing_ smell again.

We took a seat in the front of the theater, away from most of my friends. Zeke was giving me thumbs up from the opposite side, grinning like a lunatic, or a horny old man. Whatever it was, I just rolled my eyes and acted like I didn't see him.

"So. . ." I tried to break the silence between Mercedes and me, "You smell . . . amazing."

I didn't really even think about what I was saying - it was the first thing that came to my mind.

I could see her smile from beside me, "Thanks. You do too."

"Jason is hopeless."

I glanced over towards Jason and Lydia from the back - he was rambling on about something. You could barely make them out in the theater, but you could hear him talking like a crazy man.

She laughed, "Lydia will go for anything."

"Will she?" I looked to her and raised an eyebrow, meeting her smile.

She was _super_ hot. I could hardly stand it.

"Yeah, doesn't matter if he's dumb as a doorbell." Her eyes flickered back to the screen.

Did I mention her eyes were _so_ blue - bluer than anything I've ever seen?

"You know, I'm shocked I've never tried to talk to you in French class," I said to her, my eyes still on her, "I mean, you're _gorgeous_, if you don't mind me saying."

For some reason, that phrase never seemed difficult to say.

"Oh, God, no. . ." She chuckled. "It's fine. Are you any good at French?"

"To a certain extent. . . I mean, I get A's on the tests, but, I'm not good with speaking it." I admitted.

"Oh . . . zut." She gave me a small smile. "I'm part French, so I think it's really easy."

"That's kinda cool." I rubbed the back of my neck, "Was this a set-up?"

She began to laugh, as if that was the funniest thing she's ever heard, "You catch on well. It wasn't my idea, I promise. Zeke was desperate to go out with Jess, and I guess she actually likes him. She begged me to come, so I told her he should bring some friends, and we'll bring Lydia."

Our eyes met. "You are really hot though, if you don't mind me saying." She grinned.

I chuckled, "No, its cool. . . I mean, likewise."

"Girls are obsessed with you at our school though. I mean half of the girls in our French class just gossip about how hot you are the entire hour." She told me.

"It's kind of almost annoying."

I laughed buoyantly, not meeting her eyes, "I have no idea why. I'm not like spectacular or something."

"_Please_," She rolled her eyes, "no girlfriend?"

"I'm not much for relationships," I confessed, awkwardly, "they seem kind of complicated. And I mean, with basketball, I don't have that much time for anything."

"Well, you're free now, aren't you?" She suddenly asked her voice barely above a whisper.

I looked back to her and there was a playful smirk on her face. The barely-there hard-on I was achieving earlier had just increased tremendously, along with my sudden passion for someone as extraordinarily hot as her.

Her eyes were so intense, I swear. I've never seen such _blue_.

Her hand had found its way onto my pant leg and I bit my bottom lip, averting my eyes away. Yeah, I'm your average, hormonal teenager, so there was no stopping this. Her hand somehow veered up towards my crotch and she gasped at the feel of my obscured boner. I swallowed and our eyes were now on each other. A devilish grin had formed across her lips. It wasn't anything but a mere signal.

Why I was so damn stimulated lately blew my mind, but I couldn't just say no to that. Her tongue was caressing her top lip and her eyes were driving me into madness.

I breathed heavily as she began to push her hand down my pants and I found myself making out with her.

For some reason, being with a girl, and having exotic moments like this, it seemed to help me cope with my problems in life. I have no idea why. It was just some kind of relief and pleasure. It was like lifting some weight off of my shoulders.

Plus, it felt good.

And I was never one for PDA.

But she was so fucking _hot_.

* * *

We all left the theater after the movie. My hair seemed to be in a crazy mess, as was Mercedes'. Zeke was smirking like hell and I knew something went on between him and Jessica, instantly. Jason seemed rather happy about something too - he and Lydia came out, hand-in-hand. It seemed like one of those weird moments - Jason with a girl.

I had my arm casually around Mercedes. No, I hadn't taken our previous act seriously. Sure, I'd totally do it again. But I wasn't exactly thinking poetic, sensuous thoughts about her. I wasn't that guy.

I wondered if I'd ever be anything else besides a grabby, secretively insecure jackass. It felt good though, so I didn't complain.

"That was a great movie." Zeke sounded sarcastic, but he still didn't stop grinning.

I think I actually seen Jessica frown when he said this, but I didn't make it a note or something.

"Wasn't that such a great movie, Troy?" His eyes trailed over towards me as we all ended up in the lobby again.

"Yeah, crazy movie," I lied, subtly looking to Mercedes who just flipped her hair - that fantastic smell tickling my nose.

"I mean, I'm glad that one kid lived." I added, remembering the end, barely.

It was the only scene I actually noticed.

"He was so brave," Jason recalled, "I wish I could be that brave - like James Bond."

"Tough luck," Chad chuckled, his arm wrapped around Taylor's waist, "It was an okay movie - shockingly."

"Are you serious? I am going to have nightmares!" Jason mumbled.

Zeke and I exchanged looks and chuckled.

The girls were on the midst of saying their goodbye's - Taylor had her arms wrapped around Chad's neck, proclaiming how much she loved him and how she would be waiting for his phone call at ten o'clock. I rolled my eyes.

Zeke was just smirking and continuously making up stupid pickup lines to Jessica, who seemed flattered. That's gross. And then there was Jason, who could barely talk without becoming tongue-tied. It was humorous though - I mean he kept jumping from subject to subject.

My arm was still around Mercedes - a gesture I could use with any girl, ever. I always warmed up to girls quickly.

Her glossy blue eyes were on me now as the other girls made their way towards the door.

"So," She seemed to run her hands up and down on my chest and I felt like I was going to bust out of my pants . . . again. Didn't we just take care of this issue? "Do you wanna go somewhere, and . . .?"

She bit her bottom lip and grabbed at my belt, subtly, pulling me towards her.

I had to regain my sanity before answering, "I . . . probably shouldn't."

"Why's that?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows at me, confused.

Well, to be completely honest, I don't want you falling in love with me. . .

"I just have this thing I have to do at home," I lied, scratching the back of my head, looking away from her, "we could do it some other time though."

My eyes landed back to her and I gave her the best crooked grin I could manage.

She seemed almost heartbroken though. "Dude, I just gave you a hand job and you're telling me, some other time? I heard a rumor that you tend to do shit with girls and then blow them off."

Her eyes were on me, as if searching for an answer. "You really don't wanna do that to me, Troy." It was as if she was threatening me.

"It's not like that, really," I ran a hand through my hair nervously; "I just . . . really have something I have to do."

"Okay, tomorrow, then," She was persistent - it kind of freaked me out a little. She then got out her cell phone from her purse, which I presumed cost a few dollars, "Put your number in my phone, I'll put mine in yours."

This girl . . . she was relentless.

Uncomfortably, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and handed it to her. I accepted hers and began to type in my name and number. Honestly, I doubted I would even _consider_ contacting her unless I really was in desperate need of something. If she heard that rumor about me, why was she messing with me at all?

"I want to believe you're different than what they say," She handed me back my cell phone, "_call_." She practically demanded, and I watched the way the words came from her polished lips.

She looked dead-serious about this. The look she gave me was bloodcurdling, but at the same time, it made me want to thrust myself inside of her. She had a tattoo on one of her arms. She was like . . . the girl they warned you about, you know?

She fluttered her eyelashes at me and blew me a kiss. My eyes never fell from her legs as she headed towards the door; her group of friends was waiting for her there. Her eyes trailed back to me for a second before leaving.

"Sweet baby Jesus. . ." I whispered.

Zeke sought out no sign to ignore this as he made his way over to me and threw a friendly arm around me, "Dude. . ." He wheezed, "Tell me you fucked her."

"Details, Troy, _details_." Even Chad was interested, his arms folded from behind me.

"I didn't."

They all seemed to gasp in unison - like that was the surprise of the century.

"Dude, she's so hot . . . seriously, she looks like fucking Megan Fox, like _exactly_." Zeke looked at me incredulously.

"She was good . . . but like I said, I don't have time for anything right now." I told them, ignoring the way their faces seemed to fall when I said this.

"Dude, fuck time, all you need is like an hour, an hour of_ fantastic_ sex with a gorgeous woman!" He argued.

"Troy, dude, you didn't like . . . lose your dick while doing stuff with Breanna Beghtel, did you?" Chad asked a serious look on his face.

"You guys, _lay off_, alright?" I breathed, getting aggravated.

"It always amounts into the same thing. The girl gets extra clingy, and I don't want a relationship. I've seen the way it drags people down," I looked to Chad, as if making a point, "I'm not that guy, you guys know that."

"Yeah, but dude, just like, a nice fuck . . . don't you want that?" Zeke persisted.

"It's good, yeah, but it's not one of my main priorities right now. I don't have time to be stalked by some woman," They all seemed shocked at my statement, "really; she'll just bring me down."

Truth behind my words: I didn't want someone to see the _real_ me.

"Before, you'd fuck anything alive, I mean . . . months ago, you were cool about all of this. What's up?" Chad looked fatally concerned.

"Troy . . . you aren't like, questioning if you're straight or not, or something . . . are you?"

Zeke looked at me, a sudden look of terror entering his eyes.

I could have laughed. "God, no, I'm just alright with not having a girl attached to me for a little while. I'm trying to get basketball and school together. You guys would do the same if you had any brains."

"Are you calling us dumb?" Jason looked hurt.

"Oh, so now you think you're better than us? Fuck, Troy, you don't get any better grades than we do."

Zeke seemed pissed off, and I mean _really_ pissed off. And he had no idea what he was talking about - he knew nothing of my grades.

I tried not to get annoyed by his comment, "I never said that. I just think you guys should concentrate more on your future than a bunch of girls."

I felt more like a father than myself at that moment. "I mean, one day, you're gonna wake up and realize that you're stuck in Albuquerque . . . and you'll never be able to get out." I bit my bottom lip, turning away from them. "I'm not gonna be one of those guys."

"What the fuck, Troy? Since when did you give a shit about your future?" Zeke asked.

"Yeah, you never mentioned this before. . ." Chad drawled.

"Oh, come on, you guys," I turned back to face them, irritated, "what are you guys planning on doing? You think if we just sit around on our asses, we're gonna get somewhere in life? You think if we get bad grades, we're gonna get a good career? You think if we don't go to college, we'll be able to afford things for our family?"

"_Family_?" Jason now looked just as stunned as the rest of the guys.

"Dude, we're not getting fucking married, Troy." Zeke informed me, dryly.

"Why are you lecturing us?" Chad inquired. "This isn't like you."

"This _isn't_ some game, you guys." I muttered. "This is life - this is real. And I'm not gonna wake up, regretting what I _didn't_ do when I was young. You guys do what you want."

"You're like my dad," Jason mumbled, ". . . except much worse."

"We're not asking you to give up your life, man." Chad suddenly voiced, looking serious.

"We just think you should loosen up about the situation. I mean, Mercedes' really cool, so is Tori. You keep leading on these girls, Troy."

"I just wish they would leave me alone," I grumbled, "You guys keep trying to set me up with them."

"Are you _sure_ you don't like guys?" Jason asked.

I gave him a glare and he shut up.

"Well fine, Mr. I'm-too-fucking-good-for-anyone. We'll have them leave you alone. And we'll leave you alone too." Zeke suddenly snarled his voice full of outrage.

He looked to Chad and Jason.

Jason was obedient about the idea, walking adjacent to him, heading out of the lobby.

Chad just looked at me, expressionlessly. He advanced towards me, and I couldn't tell whether he was upset or not.

"It's not that bad, Troy, having a girl there for you," He said almost contemplatively, "it's really not. You know, Tay's amazing. I mean. . . I don't know what I'd do without her."

He seemed to get lost in his thoughts as he scratched the back of his head, unsure of what to say, almost. ". . . I'm happy, even if she's not giving it up, I'm still happy, man."

I looked away from him, unable to take in the meaningful look on his face. "I'm grateful."

"That's great, man." I sounded so bitter, I'm not even sure why.

"One day . . . you'll understand, dude." He assured me.

I didn't believe him.

* * *

About a few minutes after I got home, _they_ came home.

I could easily tell my dad was wasted - I could hear him laughing and speaking louder than usual. Sara was most-definitely drunk, but that was nothing new.

I could hear them talking from the kitchen. I leaned myself against the wall, catching their conversation.

"You know, when I was young, I _never_ got to party like that," My dad was smirking at her, lazily wrapping his arms around her waist. He seemed pleased, "where'd you learn those fantastic dance moves?"

I could have thrown up.

"Oh, Jack," She laughed, as if he had said the funniest thing in the world, "I know so many more."

The two were just lost in each other, or so it seemed. I got annoyed. I couldn't help it. She made me sick. And he was blind - he couldn't see passed her exterior. He had no idea who she really was. He thought this was the real her.

". . . My son," My dad uttered, breaking out of the moment, "where's my son? He should be home. . ."

"Oh, Jack, please, forget that melodramatic son of yours," I perched my lips together with resentment as Sara pulled him closer, "It's just you and me."

She swiped her long, gruesome fingernail down his shirt.

He seemed to be in trance by this, but didn't completely buy in, "Troy!" He called out my name, sounding obviously plastered.

He had moved out of Sara's grasp, receiving a slight pant from her.

I headed into my bedroom and locked the door. Whenever my dad was drunk, he'd just sit down next to me and try to tell me stories about when he was my age. He was usually the "friendly", "talkative", "bizarre" drunk. . . but lately, he'd bring up Sara and survey me on why I didn't like her, why I acted so cold to her, or whatever. I didn't want to have that conversation again.

In only seconds, he was banging on my door, obnoxiously, "Son, we need to talk." He slurred, drowsily.

"I'm . . . doing homework." I lied.

"Why is your door locked?" He inquired, now sounding a bit irritated. "Don't you ignore me, Troy David Alexander Bolton."

God forbid him say my _full_ name - it was long enough.

But you know how it is with the grandparents and the ancestors - you all have to have the same middle names, or whatever. I guess this was a common case with my family, too.

It wouldn't be long before he would start slamming his bare fist across the door and causing a huge ruckus. I've learned the hard way with my dad. He really had a short temper span. You piss him off and you're pretty much done for.

I sighed, getting up off my bed and unlocking the door, expecting a nice lecture about Sara for the night.

"Troy," He grinned, almost mockingly, "Where have you been the passed few days?"

"Here . . . school, where else?" I looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

"I haven't seen you helping Sara around the house or anything;" He narrowed his eyes, "what's with that?"

"I didn't know I was supposed to." I bit down on my bottom lip.

"Or you just didn't want to." I took a sharp breath - it was coming - the lecture was coming.

"Dad. . ."

"Troy," He stepped into my room, practically losing his balance and falling over.

I just watched him, unsure of how to react or what to do with myself at the moment.

He stumbled towards me, "I am going to _marry_ her."

His tone changed - drastically. He now sounded dead-serious and the smirk vanished from his face.

I didn't say anything as he advanced towards me. I moved away from him as he continued. I practically ran straight into my desk, and I felt a pain surging through my spleen at the thought.

He didn't take a second to think before he forced me to the wall, pinning me, choking me. I couldn't breathe - I couldn't speak. I felt like I was going to die. My dad's strength - it beat out anyone's, almost Augustus'.

"Give her a chance," It was a demand, and I could smell the Whiskey sizzling through his lips, "you hear me, son? You give her a fucking chance . . . she'd be a good mom for you."

My throat went dry, "She can't replace Mom."

His eyes became almost intimidating as he looked at me, "Troy, you have to move on." His voice was but a whisper. "I moved on, you have to move on too . . . she's gone."

His voice had gone softer, but he still sounded solemn.

"No, she's not," I groaned through his tough grasp, "she's not gone - you just fucking let her go."

He smacked me across the face - it stung the side of my cheek, "Get the fuck over it, Troy." He snarled, "She's not coming back - _ever_. You gotta adapt to Sara."

"She's crazy, I can't." I argued - knowing it couldn't help the situation.

"You don't know her," He shook his head, and then slammed me into the wall, ignoring the grumble I made from the pain, "Give her a chance."

And with that, he let his drunken self out of my room.

I sat against the wall, the pain in my back nothing less of excruciating.

As he left, I heard other footsteps coming in my direction. I groaned out loud, realizing it was _her_ - Satan's wife, herself.

She grinned, almost delighted that I had gotten kicked around by my intoxicated father. I could tell she was glazed - she literally fell onto the floor, tripping over her own foot. She helped herself up though and looked into my eyes. I just glared at her, unable to do anything else.

"It's funny how the 'strong' basketball player appears to be so _weak_." She seemed amused by this and I wanted to seriously kill her at that very moment.

She moved towards me, blocking my path. I tried to inch away from her - but there was no escape. She kicked me, sending me to the unbearable stage of hurt. I winced and refused to cry like a pussy. I yelled out in annoyance, but of course, my dad had passed out and heard nothing. She couldn't marry my father . . . she just couldn't.

* * *

I woke up around ten o'clock in the morning, not feeling any better than I had the night before. I couldn't just put off my life because of a few bruises and a few cuts though. I couldn't act vulnerable in any sort. I was positive that my friends hated me and wanted nothing to do with me now. But for some reason, I just didn't care that much.

I threw on a pair of straight-legged jeans, a plaid red shirt that rolled up to my elbows, and a pair of vans. I grabbed my basketball and jumped into my truck. I needed to clear my mind - to get rid of some pointless thoughts.

I could barely move my back, yet alone my legs, but that didn't matter . . . it was always like that. I was immune to pain.

Most kids didn't hang out at East High School on Saturday afternoons, but I knew it was the only gym I could use for free and nobody would bother me . . . mostly because nobody was around. I liked to lift weights and shoot some hoops. This was one of the first times I felt like I wasn't the only one there.

After lifting a few weights, I headed to the court to shoot some hoops. I seemed to be making them all today which was always a good sign. It felt good to unleash my hurt on the hoops instead of breaking down at home. I couldn't be home. I just hated the place, more than anything in the world.

I was almost sweating by time I decided to take a little break from the hoops. I poured some water down my throat and let out a few tired breaths. I felt better - the rush of adrenaline had come through me, and it felt good.

However, something interrupted my relieved thoughts. I heard loud voices coming from the auditorium.

Out of the curiosity, I packed up my things and my basketball into my bag and headed towards the doors of the auditorium. I pushed my head inside, subtly, and looked around. There were a few people on the stage - I imagined they were rehearsing for the "Spring Talent Show" - where you'd put on a show, and whoever had the best one . . . won. . .

Ryan Evans happened to be up there. That wasn't very surprising to me. Everybody said he was into theater and all of that. What shocked me was how uncomfortable he looked. He wore something similar to what I presumed the Romans wore back in the day - heavy armor dressed as short sleeves and skirts - along with the props of a helmet and a sword. He looked slightly weird, but at the same time, I kind of wondered what he was going for, or who he was going for. I knew a thing or two about theater, but not too much.

"Would he were fatter! But I fear him not:  
Yet if my name were liable to fear,  
I do not know the man I should avoid  
So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much;  
He is a great observer and he looks  
Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays,  
As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music;  
Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort  
As if he mock'd himself and scorn'd his spirit  
That could be moved to smile at any thing.  
Such men as he be never at heart's ease  
Whiles they behold a greater than themselves,  
And therefore are they very dangerous.  
I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd  
Than what I fear; for always I am Caesar.  
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,  
And tell me truly what thou think'st of him."

I was amazed anyone could memorize lines like that. I knew right away he must have been playing Julius Caesar. And that was kind of interesting to me, shockingly.

I noticed his twin sister, Sharpay Evans, sitting in one of the seats in the back - she was the only one in the theater. Sharpay and I have never been super-close, but we were what you could call "acquaintances". She was one of the few girls that I had hooked up with that didn't end-up hating me for too long. She got over it, and we became cool.

I slid into the section she was in and propped down beside her casually, "Hey Shar, what are you doing here?"

She seemed stunned at my appearance as she gasped, "Oh my God, Troy! You scared me. What are _you_ doing here?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I was playing some basketball - heard some voices, what's he doing, exactly?" I asked, nodding towards Ryan who was reciting even more words.

"You've never heard the tale of Julius Caesar? . . . Oh, I forgot you don't pay attention in Drama Arts," She seemed to laugh lightly as she kept her gaze on her brother, "He's pretty good, actually. There's no doubt we're going to get the Scholarship to Julliard."

"Julliard? This is for college?"

"Duh," She smiled, "they're coming to watch us - they'll decide who they want to give the Scholarship to. It's kind of obvious who's going to win . . . we're twins, so they have to give it to both of us."

"Yeah, but seriously, isn't he kind of . . . uncomfortable with the costume and makeup?" I asked, incredulously looking to Ryan.

"My brother's always been more . . . theatrical than me. Like, I'm more . . . music, as in dancing and singing. I'm for the Spring Musicale, not the play," Her blue eyes fell to me, "what about you? Have you ever had the urge to break-out in sing and dance?'

I laughed, "Wouldn't that be great, the star basketball player likes to sing and dance? Come on, Shar. I can't do either, for anything."

"Right, it's said you guys have to stick to your lunk head basketballs." She grinned, as if she had just accomplished something.

"Lunk head? Ouch, you really know a way to hurt a man's feelings, don't you?" I jested, chuckling. "I dunno, this may sound super dorky, but I'm actually _thinking_ about college. . ."

Her eyes were on me - she looked taken aback from my comment, "Wait, but aren't your grades like super-bad?"

Sharpay seemed like one of those girls I could just tell things to. She was thinking about college - I mean, she practically had her future lined up for her. I wasn't really afraid to speak my mind to her. Every thing seemed a bit out in the open now anyways, I mean, my friends knew.

"My grades are actually . . . straight A's," I didn't look at her, "My GPA wasn't so great two years ago though."

She snorted, "You're joking - you like, don't pay attention in Darbus' class . . . ever."

I smiled at her stunned expression, my eyes still set on the stage, "I actually do - it just seems like I don't." I watched the stage attentively, "He's going to reject the crown three times." I predicted my eyes on the cast members on the stage.

". . . Oh my God," Sharpay breathed, "You really do . . . that's . . . wow," She seemed mildly impressed, "Have you done your ACT or SAT tests yet?"

"Yeah. . . I haven't done my ACT yet, but my SAT was like . . . 2,200, somewhere in that range. . ."

"Troy, that's really good!" She exclaimed, "That's above average . . . that's almost perfect."

"Well, my GPA's not so high. . . I mean, this is the first year I've ever gotten straight A's." I admitted, scratching the back of my head.

"Well, if you've improved, they'll accept you . . . plus, I mean, you practically could have it handed to you. You're in basketball." She added, "What school are you even thinking about?"

"Um. . ." I rubbed the back of my neck, "It's a bit far-fetched . . . but UCLA. It's like, a dream school of mine. Chad and I made this deal when we were kids that we'd go there together," I sighed, "he probably completely forgot about that, but I still wanna go there. . ."

"It looks so pretty. I'm sure you'll have no problem getting in there." She gave me a rather reassuring smile.

"Mr. Bolton, Ms. Evans? Is there a reason you two are in here?" Ms. Darbus' thick tone interrupted our conversation.

She was standing with her arms folded, watching us from the aisle. Ryan and the others had already descended off of stage and I have no idea where they went.

"Ryan needed my car - I'm going shopping, so I figured I could just stay here for an hour, then drop him off at home." Sharpay answered, giving Ms. Darbus a sweet smile.

Ms. Darbus' eyes looked to me, "And Mr. Bolton?"

"Oh, you know how much I love theater, Ms. Darbus."

Ha, yeah, totally.

"Oh, really? Are you interested in the spring play, Mr. Bolton?"

I shook my head, "Oh, no, no. . . I'm not much of an actor," I scratched the back of my head awkwardly, "Um, I was playing basketball and I heard voices from here. I noticed Sharpay, so I decided to see what's up."

"Oh . . . of course, you were playing that sport you _always_ play. . ."

I swore I noticed her rolling her eyes.

"Sharpay? I thought I told you to wait outside!" Ryan's voice tuned out the conversation - him now standing, in normal shorts and t-shirt, behind Ms. Darbus.

He was looking at Sharpay, almost glaring at her.

"It's really hot out there - I couldn't take it." She complained, fanning herself.

Ryan's eyes locked to mine, the strangest look appearing across his face. I found myself slightly slumping in the seat - not really wanting to be noticed. He averted his eyes within a second though, and scratched the back of his head.

"Great job out there, Mr. Evans! The spring play will be delighted to have you,"

Ms. Darbus, so enthusiastic and inspirational, you know? She grinned at Ryan, who seemed to be beaming at the idea of being involved in the play. God, no wonder people make fun of this guy.

"Aw, thanks, Ms. Darbus! I am honored to be apart of such a dedicated cast."

Ms. Darbus gave him another encouraging smile before heading for the doors.

". . . There's been a slight change of plans, Sharpay," Ryan mumbled, ". . . Gabriella kind of called - her and Kelsi wanted to practice some basketball today."

Sharpay looked offended, almost, "Are you serious? Oh my god, I can't just come and pick you up - I'm going to be out all night!"

She had gotten up from her seat and was looking at him, aggravated.

"Yes, I know, it's dumb . . . but please, can't you just stay here for another hour? I don't have a ride home."

Ryan looked irritated at the idea of having to beg his twin sister.

I began to rise up from my slumped position, "Uh. . . well, hey," Both of their eyes flickered to me, furrowing their eyebrows - it almost made me kind of nervous, "I could probably give you a ride, man. . . I was planning on shooting some hoops myself. . ."

Yeah, that was the nice thing to do - it's not like my other friends were talking to me now.

Plus, he mentioned Gabriella . . . who well, probably thought I was a lunatic for running off so quickly the other day after school. Yeah, that was possible. But I guess it'd be worth it just to see her in those short shorts, right?

"Uh . . . well, um," Ryan looked stunned, as did Sharpay. "I guess . . . that'd be okay . . . a-are you . . . serious?"

"Um, yeah . . . totally, man, I mean, it's cool with me, if it's cool with you. . ." I added, scratching the back of my head.

"Wait, you're not serious are you?" Sharpay asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. . . I mean, why not? I could probably help you guys brush up on your skills, too," I suggested, getting up from my seat, "unless, you don't want any or anything."

"No, no, no, no! That's . . . fine, that's great."

Ryan's spirit lifted a bit. He looked to Sharpay, who still looked completely confused by the idea.

"I'll um . . . be fine; I'll get a ride from Troy."

"Oh-kay. . ." She just furrowed her eyebrows again. "I'll, um, see you guys later then. . ." her eyes glided to me, and her erratic expression changed.

She gave me a small smile, "You'll make it in, Troy, don't worry." She gave me a small kiss on the cheek - and I knew she still had a crush on me by the way she waved at me on her way out.

"Uh . . . thanks, Sharpay." I responded, uncomfortably, as she left the auditorium.

". . . I've never met a person that's gotten along with my sister . . . that well." Ryan murmured, more to himself than me.

I let out a rather forced laugh, "Yeah, she seems like a handful man."

The tension in the air seemed so weird - I couldn't help but feel uneasy about being next to someone who my friends loathe entirely. Well, if they're even my friends anymore. But hey, I mean . . . one, I was being nice, two, Gabriella is hot . . . three, Gabriella is hot. . .

Alright, nice strategy there, Troy.

"Um . . . so, Julius Caesar, huh? Cool guy. . ." Not really "cool", but. . . hey, whatever works.

* * *

_END OF CHAPTER_


	8. Got A Plan

**GABRIELLA**

I've always been one of those people that couldn't stand just sitting around. I mean, I always have to be doing something productive. If I was in need of money, I'd probably have as many jobs as possible, but my parents always helped me out in that department. However, I could never sit around on a Saturday. That was nothing but pure hell for me. I guess you could say I'm always full of energy and that I'm up for anything. Lately, I've unsuccessfully been attempting to sharpen my basketball skills. I could tell Ryan and Kelsi were very annoyed when I suggested we'd all go to the school and practice.

It really did make us look rather lame. Who goes to school on Saturdays? I usually didn't even do that much. This seemed a bit out of line for all of us. But I could tell they had nothing better to do. And it sounded like Ryan had some theater skit he needed to rehearse with Ms. Darbus anyways.

Kelsi and I were waiting for him in the parking lot, next to the outdoor hoop. Yes, I haven't failed to notice East High's obsession with basketball. It seemed there was a hoop at every angle of the school. It was the one thing we never lacked.

I was on my cell phone with my mother. She was on break, asking me heedless questions about my life. It was what she would do sometimes. I guess it was rather sad how we had to converse over the phone and not in person. But for some, unknown reason, I've never had a problem with the distance between my parents and I.

I was never very dependent; I've never been desperate for companionship. I'm perfectly fine with living my life without someone there to guide me. I didn't crave for attention. I'd rather blend in with the crowd. The one's that are always center-stage have so much pressure on them. If I had to deal with that much expectancy I would surely slip and fall, probably break a few bones.

We had been practicing for what seemed like hours. I was dressed in a small white tank top that seemed almost drenched in sweat. My hair was up in a tall ponytail that seemed as if it could make history. It was embarrassing. And my shorts were suddenly so tight and uncomfortable; I could have taken them off and been okay with that.

Kelsi seemed to be just as exhausted as me, leaning against a wall, her legs propped up in front of her. She had taken her glasses off and also had her hair in a tall ponytail. She was wearing a t-shirt with a slogan on it and a pair of shorts.

I was just rambling on the phone with my mother, haggardly leaned against the school's wall. The sun and the temperature definitely didn't help. One hundred degrees had to of been it. You could tell by the way our faces seemed to perspire.

The side doors opened and my jaw nearly dropped when I noticed Ryan walking with someone I didn't expect.

I suddenly became quite insecure about my disgusting appearance when Troy Bolton strolled out, looking like a model, as always. I didn't want to believe it at first. I told my mother I had to go and began to hide behind the wall, restlessly messing with my hair.

I noticed Kelsi's entire body stiffen at the sight of Troy. It was humorous almost - she reminded me of a dog when it seen something it didn't like. But at the same time, when he smiled at her and waved, it looked like she nearly melted into the pavement. Her sudden attitude towards him vanished, she was suddenly at ease.

He looked his casual style - a pair of straight legged jeans and a buttoned-up black shirt - the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked well, great, if that even began to sum him up.

I decided to come out of my hiding place but I felt my face redden as everyone's eyes found me.

"Uh, Kels, Gabriella, Troy's going to help us practice; he was in the theater. . ." Ryan announced, hesitantly.

I looked over to Kelsi, who seemed unsure of how to respond, then I looked back to Troy, who looked so calm and collected, it seemed unnatural.

"Yeah, if that's alright with you guys, I was thinking about shooting some hoops anyways." His smile never faltered.

"Um well. . ." Kelsi seemed skeptical.

"That's fine!" I cut her off, unable to forget our desperate need of support.

We barely knew how to dribble. At least he was good. He could help us out. He was the team captain, after all. It seemed a bit odd, him being at school on a Saturday afternoon, but I wouldn't dare pass up the opportunity.

Troy seemed to meet my eyes with noticeable pleasure. He seemed almost excited about helping us out. It made me question why he was friends with ignorant people like Zeke and Jason. It didn't make much sense. How did they ever get along?

Kelsi and Ryan were looking at me, furrowing their eyebrows. They obviously didn't trust him just yet. I wasn't sure whether I actually trusted him. I just couldn't pass up the chance of getting somewhere with this basketball business. I didn't want to be kicked off the team. I felt as if I've been working very hard.

"Alright." Troy grinned, getting the basketball from the ground.

I watched as he swiftly dribbled around the small court, flawlessly running towards the hoop and swiping his hand in perfect motion. The ball went into the hoop and afterwards he seemed to have a little jump of delight.

I was amused. And I couldn't refrain from smiling while watching him. I couldn't forget how angry he seemed on Friday, but I didn't want to hold that against him. Obviously something was up. That's all I could figure. I didn't want to judge him just because he was in a bad mood. Everybody has their days. Even Kelsi seemed entertained by his talents. Ryan just seemed jealous.

"So who's first?" Troy asked, tucking the ball underneath his arm, looking to all of us inquisitively.

"Um. . . I'll go." I offered.

I have no idea why I was so determined to become good. I knew that wouldn't happen. And I have no idea why I wanted to be the first one anyways. I was never the first one chosen. In school, I may have been the first one to raise my hand, but I was never the first one to suck at something more than everybody else. I wasn't confident about this - I wasn't self-assured. Usually when I'm nervous about something, I don't take the leap. And here I was, willing to make myself look like a dumb-ass.

Kelsi and Ryan even looked at me strangely. I couldn't ignore the way that Troy seemed impressed though.

I liked the way he shook his fist jokingly, "Right on."

Maybe he had mood swings. I wasn't sure. I liked his enthusiasm though.

"Alright, show me a shot." He instructed, nodding towards the hoop.

He threw me the basketball and I barely caught it.

I slowly moved up to the free throw line. I positioned my hands onto the basketball.

"Whoa, Gabriella," He jogged over to me and I felt him grab my arms, pulling me back a few inches.

I found myself blushing when he grabbed my arms. I felt like a complete doofus.

He moved away from me, "alright, now you're in position."

I aimed towards the hoop, and I could feel his eyes on me. I have no idea why but this made me extremely overwhelmed. My heart began to beat rapidly and the ball lazily fumbled out of my hands, barely making the shot.

"Ouch," He commented, running over to retrieve the basketball.

He threw it back to me, "I think you're holding it wrong. Show me."

He folded his arms, watching me. Again, I felt extremely nervous with his eyes on me. I awkwardly positioned my hands back onto the basketball. He grimaced and made his way towards me again. He grabbed one of my hands and placed it onto the basketball, then took my other and placed it behind my other hand.

The close contact seemed to make me breathless and he didn't move, "Now try it."

I lifted the basketball up towards the hoop,

"Use the strength from your right hand." He told me, and I listened. "The other hand just sort of guides you."

I propelled my hand towards the hoop and watched as it _almost_ made the hoop. I found myself groaning loudly and he seemed to laugh lightly from behind me.

"Don't worry, Gabriella, you almost have it. You just have to get used to this position."

He fetched the ball again and threw it to me.

Again, I tried to make a hoop. This time, it failed completely, bouncing off into the parking lot. I felt my cheeks flush again and I looked away, unable to hide my embarrassment.

"Trying to get Rocket man again?" He joked, giving me a small wink before heading to get the ball again.

For some reason, I felt a bit happy that he even remembered that incident. It was humiliating, yes, but he remembered it. He actually takes note of the stupid things I do.

"Unfortunately he's not here this time. Though it was pretty funny the first time you did it." He added, chuckling, giving back the ball to me.

"I can't _stand_ him." I murmured, throwing the ball towards the hoop.

It missed horrendously. This was impossible.

"Hey, don't lose hope, just concentrate." He told me. "You can do it."

I looked over to Ryan and Kelsi who were just lost in each other's presence. Kelsi was lying on Ryan's lap while Ryan was whispering things into her ear.

I about threw up at the sight so I put my focus on the hoop in front of me.

The ball seemed only centimeters from making it in, and of course, to my misfortune, it missed for the millionth time. I sighed heavily, aggravated that I can't even make a basketball hoop.

"Try to use more force." Troy sounded like a teacher, or a coach.

Really, he was rather good at ordering people to do things.

I held the ball up again; ready to go for it, when I heard him walking up to me again.

He sighed, "Your hands have to stay in the same spot, Gabriella," He said, almost amused as he crept up from behind me and put his hand against mine, lowering it.

I felt a tremble inside when he did this and I couldn't exactly explain it - butterflies were busy tugging at my stomach, "stop shooting like a girl." He added, whispering into my ear before he took a step backwards.

He was making this harder. If he wasn't so beautiful..

I sucked in all of my breath sharply, putting my mind on nothing but the hoop in front of me. I tried to ignore the stupid crush-like feelings Troy was giving me and set my heart to the hoop, also. I was driven and motivated. I was going to get this hoop. I had to get this hoop, for my own sake.

In a rather agile motion, I pushed the basketball out of my hands. It flew up and jaggedly landed into the hoop; soaring passed the hoops' strings.

I felt accomplished as I jumped into the air, shrieking excitedly, "I got it!"

Troy seemed proud and came to give me a high-five. As our hands collided, I couldn't help but smile at him, still delighted by my achievement. My chest was heavy with delight.

"Alright, now let's see how you are when you're being guarded." He said, getting straight to the point.

He crouched in front of me, mocking my movements. I felt overwrought by his closeness and by the intensity of his body adjacent to my own. However, I continued concentrating on the ball and the hoop and did exactly what he taught me.

The ball, again, made it into the hoop, "Wow, good job."

I needed a break. I headed towards Kelsi and Ryan and got out my water bottle, plunging it down my throat. Troy nodded towards Kelsi, informing her that he was going to get her to shoot next. I took a seat next to Ryan, who seemed uncomfortable about the idea for some reason.

"What's the matter?" I asked, short of breath.

"He's . . . very friendly." Ryan answered, as if that was a huge problem.

He was frowning, disapprovingly as Troy corrected Kelsi's position by the hoop. I noticed his eyebrows furrow when Troy casually pulled Kelsi backwards.

"He's just helping out." I told him, modestly. "He seems harmless, Ry."

"_Exactly_," He seemed annoyed, "he's too nice . . . especially with you and Kels. And you should have seen him earlier with Sharpay. I've never seen _anyone_ get along with my sister like that."

"He got along with Sharpay?"

It was nearly ludicrous - most wouldn't even bother having a conversation with Sharpay. She was very hard to get along with. She only associated with those of her "kind". At least, those that spoke "shopping-pink-puppy-preppy". Than again, it wouldn't shock me if she had her own little crush on Troy too.

"Yes," He muttered, "he was in the theater. I mean, I thought he hated me, to be honest. He offered me a ride . . . it just, doesn't seem right. Zeke wants to kill me."

"Zeke is an ignorant asshole," I added, "maybe Troy's not like that."

"You just like him, that's all. Gabriella, it's not hard to notice." Ryan narrowed his eyes at me, "You giggle and blush. And when he touched you, you practically died. I'm starting to wonder if Kels likes him too."

He was now watching them - Kelsi was laughing along with Troy.

"I do _not_, that's dumb." I lied, screwing and unscrewing my bottle's top, "And just because they're laughing doesn't mean that she likes him."

"I know, but I do remember that the school's population is obsessed with him. I mean, can you blame me for worrying? It's strange for him to be hanging out with _us_ out of all people. We aren't exactly his crowd."

"Maybe he doesn't stick to the status quo," I suggested, shrugging, "I mean, in school, he seems to talk to everybody. Maybe he's just not like them. Stop worrying, Ry, Kels doesn't like him - she likes you . . . a lot."

I looked at him, a serious look on my face. If there was one thing I knew, it was that Kelsi was crazy about Ryan.

Ryan sighed, his eyes shifting to mine, "Right, I guess I'm being rather silly."

Troy was now heading towards us, looking a bit tired. Kelsi was beside him, looking extremely content. She was beaming.

"So, Ryan, man, you ready?" Troy narrowed his eyes to meet Ryan's.

Ryan seemed self-conscious but got up, allowing Kelsi to take a seat next to me. Ryan followed Troy towards the hoop.

"Oh my gosh," Kelsi breathed, taking a swig of her water, "he is so cute, isn't he?"

"Troy?" I asked, shocked she would notice.

"_Yes_, do you think I'm dimwitted? I mean, I'm not saying I would . . . you know, but he is really cute! I mean, surprisingly."

"I know," I supported quietly, "more like beautiful."

"Whew," She was panting, "I feel so much better. He's really good at basketball. That helped a lot. I can't believe I was shooting like a moron for so long."

It was funny to me how quickly Troy could manipulate someone into liking him. It seemed Kelsi was reluctant about the idea at first but now, it was as if she fully accepted him. I could tell he was rather charismatic but I never knew how good he really was with people, or more specifically, girls.

I looked over at him and Ryan. Ryan seemed to be getting the hang of shooting. He was doing rather well. He was making hoops and Troy was encouraging him. I could tell that Ryan was beginning to understand that Troy wasn't a bad person, that he wasn't a jackass like Zeke was.

"So, Gab, I hate to say this, but when he was instructing you, you seemed a bit out there, you had the look on your face... you like him, don't you?" Kelsi asked, breaking my thoughts.

"I think he's _cute_, Kels," I argued, unable to hide the truth, "why does it matter?"

"Well, you've seen the way he is in class - he doesn't seem your type, nor do you seem his type. I mean, I remember when you spent like a year crushing over some guy who never noticed you - don't waste your time with this one."

I looked over at her, a bit hurt by her words. I knew she was right, but I didn't exactly want to _face_ the truth. I enjoyed acting ignorant about the idea. And I mean, I wasn't exactly thinking about something dramatic like making moves on Troy or anything. He just seemed nice . . . different, mysterious too. I'm not sure why, but I felt like there were things I didn't know about him.

I looked over at him as Ryan was dribbling. Troy's eyes were looking in the opposite direction, possible concern or worry in them. There was something up with him. I didn't know what. It just seemed like something was always bothering him. I don't know. Maybe I analyze him too much. I mean, he was just like any other person. He was friendly.

"Alright," he and Ryan had finished and they were heading towards us, "I want you guys to practice on your dribbling, guarding, and shooting skills. Play one on one or something, I have a phone call." Troy said, beginning to walk away from us.

I watched him as he headed towards the school. He headed far away from us and his back was now to us.

"Well? I believe I've gotten a bit better." Ryan boasted to Kelsi, grinning at her as he equipped the basketball into his grip and began to dribble around her.

Kelsi smiled, devilishly, and chased behind him, trying to pilfer the ball away from him.

"Guys, I think I'm gonna get some more water." I told them, not wanting to watch their public displays of affection anymore.

I headed towards the school, and found one of the outside drinking fountains. I pushed one of the buttons and allowed my bottle to fill up to the top. I sighed, a bit bored with basketball. I was becoming tired and I really just wanted to go home now. I sealed the bottle's lid and headed back towards the court.

As I was on my way, I heard Troy from the parking lot's corner. Out of just curiosity and confusion, I hid behind the wall, overhearing him yelling into the phone. I wasn't sure who it was or what they wanted, but he sounded angry with whoever it was.

"Look, I'm not coming home right now, I'm busy," He grumbled, and I could imagine the look of irritation on his face.

Within a few seconds, he seemed to only get angrier, "Dad, will you just _stop_? I told you I don't like her, alright? Can't you just let it go? I'm sick of explaining this to you. You can't make me like her."

I found myself listening more attentively.

"What the hell?" He sounded furious. "Dad, no, I can't. Fine, whatever . . . fuck you then." He suddenly shouted into the phone.

I turned around, now shocked at his outburst. He must have not noticed my presence yet. He violently kicked the wall, unleashing some sort of aggression I couldn't quite understand. As I slanted my eyes to see him better, I noticed the look on his face was nothing to be taken lightly. For a second, I thought he was crying, but he was simply just wearing a rather painful expression as he combed his hands through his hair neurotically. I felt as if I should have helped him somehow. But I had no idea what was the matter.

He finally noticed me, turning around completely. He seemed stunned by my appearance and I noticed the sudden bitterness quickly vanished, as if he didn't want me to see him upset. He just seemed slightly embarrassed, maybe even vulnerable for just a second.

". . . Gabriella, uh . . . hey." His eyes met mine - the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever witnessed in my entire life, they just looked unguarded for a sudden second.

They were soft, maybe even tender. But quickly, that changed. "I didn't know you were listening."

"Do you always talk to your father so . . . harshly?" I asked, unable to hide my bafflement.

Most kids didn't speak to their parents that way, or at least. . . I didn't think they did. My parents would kill me if I did.

He scratched the back of his head, "Uh . . . well, you know, it's kind of a love-hate thing. . ." A weak smile tugged across his lips. "I actually have to leave soon though, you know, I'm probably gonna get murdered for talking like that. . . like you know, one year of grounding."

He made a face.

"Yeah, that's never good." I bit my bottom lip, timidly. "So . . . you're leaving?"

"Yeah, I could still give Ryan a ride though, if you know, he still needs one. . ."

"No, Kelsi and I can come up with something, I'm sure," I assured him, "Um, are you okay? You seemed really angry."

His eyes shifted elsewhere and I noticed his posture change. He suddenly seemed a bit tense, maybe even stiff, "Yeah, I'm fine, it was just something stupid. But hey, um, I'll see you Monday or something, right?"

He turned back to face me, replacing the solemn expression with a smile - a heart-tugging smile.

"Okay . . . um, Troy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for . . . well, helping us out today. It really helped, and you really didn't have to, you know. . "I gave him a small, grateful smile.

"Hey, it wasn't a big deal, and you know, you guys are pretty easy to work with, I could help out any time, if you want me to." He offered, showing all his perfect teeth.

"You're just gonna get better and better, Gabriella."

"I hope so," I told him, shaking my head, "Do you think you could . . . help again?"

He was beginning to walk away, but I kept holding him back. I felt kind of mindless for this, a bit desperate too. Something about him lured me in and I couldn't quite let it go. I didn't want to just . . . stop seeing him altogether. There was the possibility that he wouldn't be around any more that he'd go back to his group. This was my last chance.

He seemed almost pleased by the idea though, "Yeah, I would definitely. . ."

He bit his bottom lip, as if contemplating something, than began to shuffle through his pockets.

I watched him, mesmerized by his movements, by his beautifully portioned body. He pulled out his cell phone and he was looking at it quizzically. I looked up to his eyes and unconsciously, he dropped the cell phone. It scattered to the pavement and he seemed to blush. I wanted to laugh but I was too consumed in the fact that he actually looked embarrassed about the idea. For once, he wasn't so coordinated.

He picked it up off the ground and looked up to me and smiled, nodding at the phone and giving it to me. I grabbed mine in my purse and gave him it.

I took a picture and put in my number as did he. We then exchanged the phones.

"I'll . . . call you sometime, or something." He suggested, but I wasn't sure whether he was positive about this, he seemed a bit unsure of the idea.

"You know, maybe we could hang out or something."

I felt my heart kind of dance when he said the words, but I wasn't sure if he was just being polite or what. I didn't want to get too excited about the idea. He bit down his bottom lip and nodded at me, smiling lightly. The smile seemed to make me feel a bit dizzy as he moved away from me, grabbing his backpack off the floor.

I watched him say goodbye to Ryan and Kelsi on his way out and then head over towards the parking lot, getting in a rather mangled truck.

If there was one thing I was for sure, it was that there was something very different about him than most guys. It may have been in a good way, it may have been in a bad. I wasn't sure yet. But I really wanted to find out.

* * *

_END OF CHAPTER_


	9. The Ball's In My Hands

**TROY**

I've never been a judgmental person. I've never thought it was fair to denounce a person just because of their image or because of their reputation. Everybody is their own individual. Why would you want to critique someone's character when you know nothing about them? I mean, you look at some heroes from history, or just heroes of today, and some of them, well, they're unusual. That's what makes a person - their aberration.

To be honest, I thought Ryan Evans was an okay guy. I didn't understand why my friends didn't like him. No, he didn't have an aggressive, fearless attitude towards things. He was definitely better off in the musicals and yoga. But the guy was fast on his feet. He seemed a bit cautious of me, like I was bound to turn on him like the rest of my friends had. But no, I didn't have a problem with Ryan. I thought he was an overall all right guy. And his girlfriend, Kelsi, she was cool too. She seemed timid at first, perhaps cautious like Ryan, but she seemed to break in easily. She was cute in a mysterious way. She reminded me of someone who'd rather sit and read a book all day then go outside. She seemed to be in her own world. Neither seemed extremely eager to play basketball, but they did strive to be taught by me. And I knew then that I liked them enough to teach them again.

Gabriella Montez was someone I couldn't help but be fascinated by. She seemed relentless in every way, her willpower was insane. The girl didn't give up. When she concentrated, she really concentrated. I actually liked the way her face would scrunch up into a frown. I thought it was really cute. Plus, she seemed completely affected by the close contact between us. I used this to my advantage. Most girls were straightforward and came onto me instantly. But she just seemed nervous by our hands touching. It was interesting. I've never really been into a shy girl before. There was a part of me that most definitely wanted to get to know her better.

I mentally kicked myself for leaving the school. I didn't wanna go home, definitely not right now. I was trying to avoid my dad at all costs. He seemed to be bent on the idea of Sara and I getting along. He was desperate. And I wouldn't have it. No, I wouldn't deal with her. I couldn't stand her - that wretched, self-centered, erratic bitch would _never_ be a part of my family.

The sun was just about setting when I pulled into the driveway. I dreaded this moment more than anything. I hoped to stretch towards my room, avoiding all obstacles on the way.

As I walked in, I could tell there was nothing out of the ordinary happening.

My dad was watching television, probably the Lakers. Sara was nowhere to be found. I hoped that she left for the day. I didn't wanna see her face.

I knew that the hourglass was about filled. It would soon be time for me to take another adventure with her down to the plantation. I didn't want to face that. I didn't want to face death at its worst. I didn't want to hear the cries of children, or receive more emotional scars. I had been resurfacing. I didn't wanna plunge back into the water and almost drown all over again.

I realized how wore out I truly was when I hit my bed's pillow. I sighed heavily. My legs felt like they were about to fall off.

It felt good to talk and hang out with different people today. I actually had a good time. It had been awhile since I've had my fair share of fun. Lately, my friends had been extremely annoying. I figured they'd be ignoring me in school on Monday. I didn't care though. I didn't need them. I was perfectly all right without them.

I checked my phone line to see how many people called me while I was gone.

Mercedes left a long message about how I'd be best to "call her back". Of course, I wouldn't call her. She was becoming crazy and obsessive. I couldn't stand that. A few other girls called, anxious to talk to me. I wouldn't call them either. I deleted all the messages. I felt like a jackass leading them on just to break them in the end. But it was obvious to any intelligent person that I didn't want something serious, that I couldn't _manage_ something serious. It required time, and commitment, and a lot of venting. Those were three things I just couldn't spare.

I wouldn't even be in this painful situation if my mom would have just stayed. I didn't understand it, even to this day, why she had to leave. The least she could have done was warn us, but she didn't even do that much. She just got up and left. Didn't she realize that my dad couldn't be without her? To this day, I could still see the sadness in his eyes sometimes. It was like he still wasn't fully put back together, the pieces hadn't yet been mended. She literally broke him. She broke him so much that he settled with a crazy, psychopathic bitch. I wondered, if she knew what was happening to me, if she knew the strength I had to muster up just to wake up in the morning, to go on with my life, to not give up on it, to not become suicidal . . . would she come back?

God, that's all I ever needed. I needed my mom. I didn't need someone to talk to, or someone to vent on, I realized. Maybe I did to some extent, but the real remedy would be just to have my mother back in my life. Then again, that seemed nearly impossible. She went, and she hadn't showed back up. It has been two years. You'd think I'd be over it. I searched for her address and when I got it, I sent her millions of letters, all of which she never responded to. I waited, and waited.

I had some sort of hope that my dad didn't even have. He was too busy moping around and crying to himself when I wasn't in the room. I knew my dad loved her. With my parents, it wasn't like the usual married pair. It was as if they were still teenagers, still holding hands and complimenting each other, it's as if their feelings hadn't changed at all, as if they weren't bored with each other. They were always excited to do something, always satisfied with being together. I loved them, together. My dad still looked incomplete without her, even while standing next to Sara, there was just no one that could fit better with him than my mom. And he and I both knew that he'd never love someone the way he loved her.

* * *

"Troy."

My eyes opened to a surreal darkness. I couldn't see anything. I felt like I was dreaming. My head was spinning erratically and I couldn't move passed the giant eclipse in front of me. Where _was_ I?

"Troy, honey."

A voice. A compassionate, otherworldly voice stirred either inside or outside of my head. I couldn't seem to figure that one out. But I recognized the voice. The voice could only belong to one person.

". . . Mom?" Yeah, I was definitely dreaming.

Why couldn't I see anything? If my mom was in my dream, I at least wanted to see her again. The obscurity didn't fade though. I couldn't make out a thing or where I was at. What the hell? It wasn't fair.

"Troy, listen to me," Her tone was soothing to me, almost.

I missed her so much that it nearly tore out pieces of my heart just listening to her, as if there was anything left to tear out.

"I'm right here, baby."

The darkness seemed to perish almost instantly. And there she was, standing in front of me, in full detail: from the dimple on her chin to the part in her hair. She was standing there looking exactly how I remembered her, dark brown hair, bluish gray eyes. It wasn't hard to figure out that we were related, I guess.

"Mom. . ."

I couldn't even think of something to say, which was moronic, considering the fact I hadn't seen or spoken to her in years. You'd think I'd have a lot to say. It may have been a dream, but it seemed so real.

"You've really grown," She seemed to chuckle, almost in satisfaction as she scrutinized me from head to toe, "I figured you'd get bigger over time. We were so worried you'd never grow out of your awkwardness," She smiled, thoughtfully, "you look a lot like your father."

I couldn't find a response in my head, everything seemed to be blank. It all seemed bizarre, the dream, in general, her standing here. And the fact that she was talking like nothing had ever happened, like she never walked out of my life, like she never left.

"I can't come back, Troy," She suddenly said, a stringent frown on her face, "Not now, not ever."

I finally forced myself to talk, "What? Why not? Mom, I miss you!"

"Of course, I miss you and Jack sometimes too," She looked almost sad, "but I need you to be strong - I've seen what's been happening lately and its all too overwhelming, that woman Jack's with. . . she's not good news."

My illusions made no sense to me. My mom wouldn't even know about Sara. She was somewhere across the universe, somewhere far away from here, she would have no idea. Only my dreams would make her aware of all this.

"Troy, you need to talk to your dad about this . . . you can't let him . . . stay with her. She's hurting you."

"He won't listen," I argued, "what am I supposed to say? Why don't you just come back, come back and make everything better? The only reason he's with her is because you're not around."

"Stop that," She demanded, suddenly angry, "I can't come back, you'll understand someday, but just know I can't," She inhaled sharply, "you are a Bolton, you need to show her that she can't mess with you like that. I can't be there for you Troy, but someone can help you."

"If I tell anyone, they'll think I'm crazy, Mom." I grimaced.

I didn't want to have these pointless arguments with my own illusions.

"No, _someone_ will listen, you just need to find that someone. You will. There is someone out there that will listen, Troy, and once you learn how to tell them, everything will be okay again."

"No, I _can't_, Mom, I'm not gonna turn into the freak who lets little kids die without doing something," I yelled at her, "I just can't!"

The imaginative figure in front of me moved closer to me, and it seemed irrational how real she looked as she put her hands on my shoulders, "You will - and you will make it through this, because you're Troy Bolton, and you're not a freak."

She embraced me.

* * *

I jumped up, cold sweat pouring down from my forehead, and a mixture of unexplainable tears underneath my eyes. What just happened? I couldn't decipher it, that dream. The room suddenly seemed to be scorching as I got out of my bed and took a glance at the time.

It was Sunday already, about noon. I slept for a long time, I realized. Shirtless with nothing but my boxers on, I checked my phone messages again. One was from Chad.

I nearly groaned.

"Hey man, it's me, Chad," He said, casually, "look; I wanted to talk to you about what happened on Friday . . . everyone kind of overreacted, and I wanted to let you know that it's cool with me, I mean, we're cool." He sighed, heavily.

"I mean, dude, if you wanna go to college, that's cool, I mean, I do too. Zeke and Jason are just . . . shocked, I guess. I am too, sort of, you're the guy in Darbus' class that always gets in trouble, I mean, you've always acted like school wasn't a big deal. So, we were surprised. I'm your best friend though, you could have told me. We've been tight since like, what, kindergarten? You can tell me things, bro. I'm here, man. You listen to me go on about Taylor, whether it's how you don't wanna hook up with Mercedes or how you wanna go to college, man, I don't care, you can talk to me. But . . . yeah, I guess I'll see you Monday? Just letting you know that I'm here for you man. Alright, later bro."

For a second, I just stood there, thinking. It made me realize that Chad really was a good friend of mine. I wouldn't ever tell him anything, but it was good to know that he wasn't joking when he said we were best friends. It's stupid that I was pondering over Chad's and my friendship. I really must have been losing my mind. I needed to talk to some girl, or something.

I threw on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans and looked through my phone, searching for a name of a girl I could give a call. I didn't really care at the moment. I just needed someone to talk to, I guess. Not about personal shit, but about normal shit. I was getting all appreciative of Chad and that was too weird.

I looked through names. The majority of them were sluts that I could barely have a conversation with because they were too obsessed with talking dirty. Was it hard enough to find a girl just to talk to without dealing with hormones? I mean, their hormones, that is. Girls in my school wanted to have sex more than I did, and that was wrong in so many ways.

My thumb slid across a name suddenly and everything inside of me seemed to stop, including my heart. Maybe. . .

Gabriella Montez.

Wow, dumb-ass. She was so naturally beautiful though, it was hard not to get stimulated by her. The idea of calling her almost made me nervous. Wait, what? Nervous? Yeah, right. I did ask for her number though. Why else would she give it to me? If she didn't want me to have it, she wouldn't have given me it. . .

But why would she like a guy like me anyways? She probably thought I was a jerk like Zeke and Jason. Plus, with the way my life was at the moment, it seemed like I didn't deserve anyone. I mean, I watched kids die, and I did nothing about it. It's not like I could if I wanted to, either. That's what sucks the most.

I was just looking at her picture for about five minutes, dwelling on whether I should call or not. I finally hit the talk button and waited for the dial tone to pick up. The anticipation nearly killed me. I almost hung up after waiting for five seconds. I have no idea why I was so over the edge over it. She was just a girl.

But to my surprise, Gabriella wasn't the one that answered.

"Hello, Gabriella isn't here right now, so give me a message and I'll tell her, ASAP," It was a guy's voice. He sounded like he was just kidding around, but I couldn't help but frown.

From the background, I could hear laughing, and it sounded similar to Gabriella's.

"Um . . ."

I didn't really know what to say. I almost felt jealous of the guy that was with her. Was he her boyfriend?

"TJ, give me my phone!" I heard her exclaim and I heard a lot of commotion, like this TJ guy must have been running away from her.

I shuffled my feet and bit my bottom lip, impatiently.

After a few minutes of hysterical laughing and static, a sweet, melodic voice came onto the phone, "Hello?"

She was holding back her laughter.

"Uh, hey. . ." I began, awkwardly, "it's me. . . Troy,"

"Troy?" She seemed surprised, maybe even delighted, "Troy _Bolton_?"

"Yeah, that's me, unless you know some other guy named Troy Bolton, well, that'd be a bit confusing." I joked, chuckling.

"Oh, well . . . um, sorry about TJ, he likes to take my phone. . ."

"That's alright, is he . . . well, your boyfriend, or something?" I tried to act modest about it, but I already sounded nosy enough.

"No," She snorted, "he's a really good friend, and a douche bag."

I laughed lightly, "Oh, alright, I was just wondering."

"Yeah . . . so, um, your call is . . . well, unexpected."

"It's not too much, is it? I mean, I don't want you to get the whole stalker-obsessive-creep vibe from me, I'm totally not like that," I told her.

"Oh, no! Most guys take months to call after we exchange numbers; I just figure you have thousands of girls on your phone that you could call." The sourness in her voice was notable.

"Well, hey, I had a good time Friday, so I decided to call you," I found myself smiling, "without a stalker-obsessive-creep vibe."

She began to laugh, her singsong laugh, "No, it's okay, I wasn't doing anything productive anyways, just sitting on the couch watching TV. TJ just came over to annoy me."

"Really? Well I just had an extensive nap, so Monday, I should be super energized."

"So you can piss off Ms. Darbus some more?"

I chuckled, "I love pissing off Ms. Darbus."

"I sometimes think she just ignores you guys now," I could see her smile in my head; "she used to have more witty comments for you, but now she just says your name and kind of frowns."

"I think she's learning to love me, actually."

She laughed, "You're a funny guy, Troy."

"I'm glad I amuse _someone_." I grinned. "So, Gabriella."

"So, Troy. . ." She seemed to giggle when she said my name.

I always felt so outlandish when I spoke to Gabriella. I felt like I was a kid again, like I was having my first crush on a girl. When I used to get butterflies and get excited, before I had sex for the first time. When kissing was a big deal and going to second base was the ultimate. It was cool feeling, but it kind of scared me. I couldn't _like_ her... a lot. If I liked her a lot, things would get complicated. Especially now.

"Oh, I wanted to apologize about that whole, weird, cell phone incident. I don't usually fumble like that; I mean I'm pretty coordinated, actually . . . like that right there, something happened there, I mean, I guess it was because I get nervous around pretty girls or something. . ."

I smiled as I waited for her response to that. For some reason, it was always easy for me to hit on girls. And Gabriella, well, I could imagine her just blushing over it. She seemed like that type of girl. She was shyer than most.

". . . Wait, are you calling me pretty?" She asked, startled.

"Well . . . that was the point; it doesn't sound so smooth now that you're asking me, but yeah."

She giggled, "Well . . . thanks, really. . ."

"Anytime," I responded coolly, "but hey, if you guys need any more help, I'm down."

I imagined her rolling her eyes, "We need all the help we can get . . . and I can tell that Ryan and Kelsi aren't really that into it. I did drag them into this. But still, they shouldn't be so . . . pessimistic."

"I like how you're so motivated." I told her, honestly.

"I don't think I've known anyone whose so relentless, I mean even when she shoots hoops like a girl she doesn't give up."

"Hey, you said yourself that I've improved!" She pouted.

She actually sounded offended. I found humor from it.

"Yeah, but you still shoot like a girl," I heard her cackle and I chuckled, "Why so serious, Gabriella?"

"I don't know, I just, I wanna be good! I like basketball." She answered, sighing. "I mean, I never realized it before, but I really like it."

"That's good. That means you're officially cool in my book."

"Because that's what I've been really striving for," She teased. "I actually saw in my head, a basketball hoop with fireworks."

"Ah, haven't we all?" I couldn't help but mock her a little.

"Seriously! Am I weird?"

"No, sometimes I sleep with a basketball." I told her.

She went silent for a second. ". . . Well."

"Hey, Chad brings his to dinner." I defended myself. "And I think to the bathroom."

She began to laugh, "Wow that's . . . love."

"Yeah, I think you should meet Chad, he's really not like Zeke or Jason either," I told her enthusiastically, "you'd probably like him."

She didn't say anything in response; I could hear her breathing into the phone though.

"I hope I'm not holding you from hanging out with your friend."

"No, he's entertaining himself with my fridge, actually," Gabriella answered, good-humored, "but he comes in and makes faces at me sometimes."

"Interesting . . . so, I'll probably say hi to you on Monday, and if you like that, I might wink."

"You might wink?" She giggled. "What's up with you and winking?"

"My mom taught me it. She said, 'Troy, just smile and wink, they'll love you.' So, I did. . ."

I felt an aching at my chest at the mention of my mom, especially after that crazy dream.

Gabriella seemed impressed by this, "Really? Aw. She must be pretty cool then, right?"

I bit down on my bottom lip, my throat drying, "Yeah . . . she was. . ."

The gaping hold in my chest was back again, larger than ever. I needed to get out of this conversation as soon as possible. I was going to break otherwise. I didn't like to talk about my mom. I never did with anyone else. Why was I opening up to Gabriella?

"Hey, Gabriella? I gotta go; I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

I felt moronic, not giving her room to object or say anything else. I was being selfish. But I didn't want her to see the guy behind the facade. No, I was Troy Bolton to her, almighty Troy Bolton, the star basketball player, the guy the girls liked. I wasn't the guy who let little kids die. I didn't want that to change.

She seemed shocked by my change of attitude, "Um, okay? See you. . ." Disappointment.

"Bye." I wanted to say more but I couldn't.

* * *

_END OF CHAPTER_


	10. This Time Its Man to Man

**TROY**

Sleep that night seemed impossible. I tossed and turned. I couldn't stop thinking about the bizarre dream I had about my mom, or this girl, Gabriella. It was kind of moronic that I'd be thinking romantically of _any_ girl. I wouldn't have time to give her any part of me. And I surely wouldn't be able to open up to her, express myself and my own pain to her. So honestly, there was no point to all of this.

There was something different about her though. It captured my interest. She seemed shy but at the same time friendly. I couldn't really explain it. She seemed like the type of girl who'd rather spend her time alone than with someone. She was independent and I liked that. She didn't have to rely on other people to make her feel satisfied. Most of the girls I know, well. . . let's just say they're used to getting attention. I envied that Gabriella could isolate herself from the world and feel okay about it. I honestly wished I could do the same.

I _hated_ being alone. And it wasn't just because it led me to thinking about the agony, but it was just the fear of uncertainty. When I'm with someone, it's as if I know no one can hurt me, that no one can do anything really violent. But when I'm alone, say at my house, well, I have no idea what's coming, whether it consists of my dad unconsciously bashing my head into the wall, or my future "step-mom" kicking me where she knows it hurts. I realized my dad turned to the dark side. I wasn't sure _who_ I could go to anymore.

School was a living hell on Monday. I waited for ten minutes at each of my friends' houses, expecting their arrival. The only one who actually came out was Chad. The others apparently left moments before, said their mothers'. And well, that pretty much lead to the beginning of a horrible, dreadful day. Zeke and Jason decided they wouldn't speak with me and remained silent all throughout passing periods _and_ lunch. I could tell they were still furious - they kept whispering to each other like little girls and glaring at me when they had the open opportunity. Chad was surprisingly cool with me and walked with me to every class.

Before Darbus' class, I was about to lose my passiveness towards their behavior, but Chad was the one who stepped in and told me it wasn't worth it.

"Dude, they're just still in shock - they seriously thought you weren't serious about the future and this school business," Chad told me, shrugging as if it wasn't a big deal at all, "just give them a few days and they will forget it even happened."

"Yeah, and all of a sudden I'm part of the freaky science geek club. . ." I rolled my eyes and slammed my locker shut. "Do you remember when we promised each-other we'd go to the same colleges?"

Chad hesitated for a second, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned against my locker, ". . . Uh. . . I think so. UCLA?"

"Yeah," I bit on my bottom lip thoughtfully, "I'm gonna try and get in."

Chad's eyes nearly popped out, "Whoa, Hoops, you've gotta be kidding. . ."

"Does it really seem that. . . hard to believe?"

"It's a big school. . . I mean, we were just kids when we made that promise. We had no idea what life was all about. But. . . I'm not gonna discourage you," He gave me an upbeat grin, slapping me on the shoulder, "ready to face the devil?"

I chuckled, following him into Ms. Darbus' class, "Never."

I slid into my usual seat, Chad taking his place behind me. I could tell it was going to be an awkward class period. Zeke and Jason were both in this class, along with Gabriella.

Hmm, Gabriella. For some unknown reason, I felt my heart beat speed up a notch. Pretty dumb, getting all worked up over a girl. I was actually excited to see her.

I began to wonder how she reacted towards my weird behavior on the phone. Why did she have to catch me at my worst moments, anyways? I mean, it was partially my fault for bringing up my mom, but I couldn't help it. It's like Gabriella made me want to speak about things that were practically forbidden. I mean these were things that were put into the obscurity of my past, the obscurity that I didn't want to get close to. But because of some girl, I was wanting to express myself, and _that_ wasn't like Troy Bolton. Definitely not.

I promised myself not to do anything outlandish like that again.

I still couldn't avert my eyes from her when she walked into the classroom though. She always looked so conservative in her dresses that fell to her knees. They were always lighter colors that brought out her hair and her beautiful chocolate-colored eyes. Man, I didn't even know what hit me. Love songs were playing in my head and my lower region didn't know how to stay elevated. It was so damn uncomfortable.

Her legs were the hottest feature of her. Some girls in East High wore these tiny mini skirts that showed half of their ass-cheeks practically and let me tell you, they were _not_ sexy. But Gabriella, no, she was sexy. She could probably wear one of those skirts and pull it off better than the rest of them. She was like model material. Except she kept it strictly confined so no one could see how beautiful she really was. And that's why I was drawn to her so much. She wasn't bragging or showing off. If anything, I think she was oblivious to how cute she really was.

She walked in with her books hugged to her chest as usual, like a little church girl or something. She was so innocent and pure; she was like an angel sent from heaven or something, some kind of goddess with fabulous legs. I have no idea why I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. I was probably looking like a creep by now, and my breathing had stopped entirely. Like she had taken all the oxygen in my body away from me. Literally.

My friends were probably _really_ confused. This could definitely take a nice article in the school's newspaper - Troy Bolton, captain of the basketball team and school heartthrob, takes a double take at Gabriella Montez, participant in every club available _and_ the smartest girl in the school. I was probably not even qualified for taking these glances at such a saint. But for some reason, I just couldn't help myself.

And then Chad hit the back of my head with his basketball.

"Ow," I sent him a look from hell before I restrained myself from glancing at Gabriella Montez any longer.

"Mr. Danforth, what have I told you about bringing inactive objects into my classroom when they do not pertain to drama arts?"

Ms. Darbus raised a thin eyebrow at Chad, who just shrugged carelessly and put the basketball underneath his desk.

"Sorry, Ms. D."

"Now, shall we get on to drama arts?"

Ms. Darbus had that look on her face. The look that could kill a student in a second. Yeah, enthusiasm. She was ready to explain something - something big. I shifted my eyes towards Chad, who looked more nervous than me.

"Shit, she's got that look on her face. . ." He mumbled.

I just shook my head and rubbed my neck, uneasily. I was actually trying to find all the temptation I had to turn around "casually" and give Gabriella one of my million dollar smiles. I mean, I couldn't even wink at her because I was too busy having a complete stroke because of how godforsaken beautiful she was. Ugh. Is that even a good enough reason? No. . .

"So today," Ms. Darbus cut off my thoughts by optimistically leaping from her podium. Yeah, it was definitely going to be big. She had a giant grin on her face and looked like she was about to dance around. Never a good thing, "we are going to be starting a project."

I could hear Chad slapping his forehead from behind me, others sighing, a few people texting though I'm guessing Darbus was just going to avoid that for now and become detective later, and then there was Sharpay and Ryan in the back, beaming like there's nothing better to do than school projects. Especially Ryan. Wearing his hat and everything. Again, a reason why most people don't like the guy. And his pink shirt. I _think_ he was crossing his legs too. Like a girl.

"Oh, projects, Ms. Darbus, you shouldn't have," Jason added.

As usual, thickheaded comments.

"This _is_ a 100 point project, Mr. Cross," Ms. Darbus gave him a sickeningly sweet smile, "something that could boost your grade up tremendously."

A few people snickered.

"She should _not_ be this enthusiastic," I whispered to Chad who just nodded with agreement.

"I want this to be taken seriously," Ms. Darbus growled, "and I do not want this to become something you will all just blow off. I want you to pick a partner who you can get along with, and work together with." She eyed Chad and I for a second. "You will make a dialogue that teaches a lesson. . . it could be a lesson about yourself, a lesson about life, problems, divorce, love, parents, drugs. . ." She frowned, "abuse, violence, but. . . no basketball." She narrowed her eyes at us.

"Aw, Ms. D, you're my favorite teacher, how could you do that to me?" I playfully put my hand to heart as a few of the students chuckled.

"Mr. Bolton, this isn't a gymnasium, this is a classroom, please take the project seriously."

"Always," I saluted her, again, receiving a handful of giggles.

Many students sauntered across the room, in search for the "perfect partner". I turned around, about to ask Chad. I was surprised to see that he had already partnered up with Zeke who must have asked him ahead of time. Yeah, so much for best friends forever. Wait, am I seriously jealous over the fact that Zeke is partners with Chad? Seriously, Troy? Get it together.

I looked over to Jason who somehow managed to spark up a conversation with Martha Cox, who was completely eager to be his partner. Weird that Jason could even get girls. Then again, I'd never forget what happened at the movies with that one girl. She was cute. It was amazing she'd even listen to him after he compared himself to the "Jason" monster in Friday the 13th.

Sharpay was all over some football player. Figures. If she wasn't drooling over me or one of the basketball players, she was all over the bulky football players, who were zealous about her being all over them. I mean, any guy would be. Sharpay was drop-dead gorgeous, she was just full of herself and wanted to be the center of attention all the time. That was something that could get annoying very easily.

Ryan was attached to Kelsi, talking to her animatedly about his ideas for the project. Of course. He must have made some crazy diagram up on a piece of notebook paper. The guy was creative as it gets. And I hate to say it but he was a very good actor.

A few other girls were ogling me out from across the room. They seemed to be battling their eyelashes and _attempting_ to lure me in. It didn't work out very well. They were the "bashful", yet "flirty" type I could tell. They wanted to seduce me with their eyes and their hair. Most of them were just blonde cheerleaders who wore too much makeup and tried way too hard. Now, don't get me wrong, I love blondes, they're adorable, but I really _prefer_ brunettes.

Speaking of which. . .

My eyes flickered to the back of the room where Gabriella sat. For some, absurd reason, the girl was sitting all alone, scribbling things down on a piece of notebook paper. I wondered to myself _why_ she was all alone.

The reason I was alone was very self-explanatory. My friends were pissed because they found out I have a brain and they were envious of the idea and wished they had a brain too. Okay, not so much, and I'm really not that arrogant of a person, I'm just saying. That's a totally obvious idea, right? I didn't look like a loser over here. I couldn't. People weren't thinking that. . . at least, I hoped they weren't.

Alright, so I had two choices. I could either scoot my ass over there and start a conversation with her and suggest we could be partners. Or, I could be a pussy, sit here, and hope ideas come to my brain. Then I could makeup some bull shit to tell Darbus and she would let me do the project alone. Honestly? The first idea sounded much better. . .

I tried to subtly walk over there but obviously I couldn't be subtle about anything. Everybody seemed to be watching me and let me tell you how obnoxious that really was. It was horrible. And when I sat down next to her, their eyes only widened. Even my friends, or ex-friends, whatever, were gaping, their mouths hanging open like they were stuck like that or something. Even Chad looked confused. And the cheerleaders? They were _furious_. My fan club? Ready to kill.

The whispering came next.

"Is he really sitting by that geeky science girl?"

"Do you think he's secretly dating her?"

"I forgot her name. I just know she's a complete nerd!"

"Is it true that she's the smartest girl in the school and he's the dumbest?"

But the truth was I was at the top of this class, second next to Gabriella. I'd rather shoot myself in the head then admit that out loud though.

And then, Gabriella's eyes rose up from the notebook, and I'm surprised she didn't scream or something. She just acted as if she couldn't believe what she seen, like maybe she was dreaming, as if I wasn't here or something, just a figment of her imagination. I sat with the chair pulled up to her desk, turned backwards, my legs between the chair.

"How's it going?"

"T-troy," She breathed, the surprise still leaking from her tone, ". . . what are you doing?"

"Should I. . . leave, or something?"

I raised an eyebrow, not sure on why she was acting so funny about the situation. I get that everyone was talking. But I really didn't care that much. And its' not like my other friends were around to be my partner. So, why not go to Gabriella?

"N-no. . . I just, I didn't expect you! I mean, what about your. . . um. . . friends?"

"My friends?"

Uh, not a good topic.

". . . Oh, um, they're kind of mad at me right now. It's. . . complicated." I bit my bottom lip, "Do you not wanna be partners with me, because I mean, I was gonna ask, and if you prefer to do the project alone then that's perfectly fine with-"

"No! Troy, it's fine, really, I just. . . everybody's kind of staring at us," She chuckled, nodding her head towards the unnerving amount of eyes that were watching our every move.

I turned and gave them all a smile, "Hey guys, uh, nothing new here, you can all get back to what you were doing. . ."

I scratched the back of my head, my face feeling a bit hot as Ms. Darbus furrowed her eyebrows from across the room. Everybody seemed to turn away gradually.

"Well. . . then. . ." Gabriella cleared her throat and gave me one of her sweet, heart-stopping smiles.

"Well, . . . how'd you sleep last night?" I asked, casually.

She laughed, and I remembered why I was so enticed by the girl, "A very random question, but I slept fine, how did you sleep, Troy Bolton?"

My heart hammered across my chest when she said my name for some reason. "I slept. . . reasonably good." I answered, untruthfully.

"Well, that's good. Do you have any ideas for this. . . project?"

She was flipping through her notebook, tearing out papers that had millions of notes in them.

"Wow. . ." I met her eyes. "You sure have enough notes."

She just shook her head, "They're for all my classes, not just this one. I'm pretty active when it comes to note-writing. It really helps me on my tests."

". . . Yeah, me too, I've never been one for the teaching out loud. I have to write everything down to learn it."

I suddenly felt a bit embarrassed for mentioning this.

I rubbed the back of my neck, edgily. "So. . . umm, sorry I got off the phone so fast last night, I know I've been sort of leaving you hanging lately and not saying goodbye. . . sorry about that,"

She just shook her head with a smile that eased my mind a little, "It's okay, but you didn't wink at me."

"Yeah. . . sorry about that too, I just seen you and, you just blow my mind, has anyone ever told you that you look like an angel?"

Why the hell was I blushing? I felt stupid for saying something so cheesy to her. I mean, seriously? "You look like an angel"? Who says that? I never say that.

I looked away from her for a second but when I looked back to her, a hint of a smile spread across her lips and her eyes just twinkled I think. It was as if they just sparkled at me. I suddenly didn't feel so embarrassed anymore. Still felt like a moron though.

"No, but thank you." She said sincerely, and well, politely. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Me neither," I admitted with a laugh. "Stupid, huh?"

"No. . ." She looked down for a second, ". . . it was sweet. You're good with words, Troy. Has anyone ever told you that?"

I chuckled. "A few times. I wasn't trying to be good with words though. I was serious. You seem like the type of girl who doesn't realize how attractive she really is."

"Something like that," She sighed, a pensive look on her face, "I'm the girl who doesn't try and stick out. I try to blend in."

"But you don't,"

"Troy. . . we've been going to the same school since Freshmen year. And you never noticed me once," She laughed, almost bitterly.

I thought about her statement. Yeah, that was true. I never even knew her name. Why was I suddenly noticing her now? Was it her personality? I wasn't sure. There was something _extremely_ interesting about her.

"Well, you've got this. . . shy yet mysterious vibe," I chuckled, "and you don't try to beautiful, it just happens. I like that."

Again, why was I flirting with her so much?

Now _she_ started blushing. "Troy, come on!"

"Seriously." I told her. "You're absolutely gorgeous and you don't even _try_ to be. That's amazing, Gabriella. Most girls spend all day trying to look as pretty as you do. And you can tell they do."

She looked down, timidly. "You know. . . we should really be doing the project right now."

"You're absolutely right," She chuckled to my enthusiasm, "it's a good thing we've got both of our brains to figure this one out."

"I've always been extremely intrigued by the topic of abuse. Do you think we could take that one on to impress Darbus?"

Gabriella's question hit me in the strangest way.

Abuse. Yeah. I didn't really want to, considering the fact that I knew too much about it, that I actually suffered from it myself. It reminded me of the way Sara was towards me and the way my dad has been holding me guilty for everything nowadays. It was more-so my dad that's been bothering me lately though. It was as if I had lost my dad. He wasn't even really a father anymore - just someone who liked to lecture me, yell at me, and when he was drunk, he enjoyed throwing me up against walls and beating my face in. Fortunately, there were no marks. Just a bloody nose and a smashed up lip.

"Troy?" Gabriella obviously noticed my hesitation for the subject.

"I was thinking we could talk about abortion or something, you know, something really powerful. Maybe marijuana legalization, you know, something crazy."

But Gabriella didn't seem so convinced - obviously abuse really appealed to her. Which was my perfect irony, I guess.

"Haven't you ever wondered why people deal with abuse, why they don't tell someone about it? I mean. . . I just can't stand the idea. I think it's worse than anything when someone feels like they can't trust people," Gabriella said, grimacing, "I wish I could help them. . . you know?"

I felt some kind of aching inside of my chest at her words. She wanted to _help_ them? But what could she do? Absolutely nothing.

"It's probably more complicated than you think," I tried to act passive about the discussion, like it didn't eat me up inside, "the person that's abusing them probably has them in a headlock where they can't say anything, you know?"

"That's why you get them locked up, where they can't." She argued. "It just makes me want to cry, you know? I think if we tried hard enough, we could make people realize that it's not okay, not in relationships, or even with relatives!"

I bit my bottom lip so hard I felt like it was going to bleed. Damn it. I couldn't just try and express what abuse was like. I'd do it so well that people would be baffled on why I know so much, why I can express it so much. And plus, I'd start to believe my own words. I couldn't handle that. . . that was just too much.

"It's just. . . it's probably a really touchy subject with some people, I mean what if people get offended, or something?"

I could feel my irritation rising. I really didn't want to do this. I wish she could have just gotten that and left it alone.

She turned to look at me, brown eyes meeting blue, her eyebrows furrowing, "Troy? Why are you upset? It's just a school project. . ."

And then I felt it. I felt my insides just splitting - all the secrets I was holding, they were all just coming alive, destroying the façade I had been wearing. I swallowed thickly, hoping that it would just go away, that the pain would just go away, the aching. But I couldn't. It was there, and I'm positive Gabriella could see it. I was just begging to be heard, but I couldn't bare to say it out loud.

"Look, it's fine, I don't know why I'm getting angry, I just. . . knew someone who got abused really bad and it just. . . aggravates me," I lied quickly, scratching the back of my head and looking elsewhere.

"Oh. . ." She looked down, apologetically, "I'm sorry. . . I didn't know. . ."

"It's nothing big, I just. . . I was hoping we could do something else?"

"Yeah. . . I understand," She didn't seem satisfied about the decision though, "it's just the one thing in the world that makes my stomach churn."

"Tell me about it. . ." I muttered, running my hands through my hair. The emptiness seemed endless.

"You probably think I'm crazy."

"I don't think you're crazy. . ."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I just. . . I have no idea. . . I'm really not crazy. . ." I promised her.

She must have thought I was rabid by now - ill in some sort of way. I mean, if it's not my mom or if I'm not pulverizing a hoop with my basketball, I'm erratically freaking out about "abuse". . . I tangled my hands through my hair, frowning.

But she just watched me with concern in her eyes. Like she was worried about me or something. And then she grabbed one of my hands, stopping my mindless wander through my hair. I nearly stilled when she did this, and just looked into her beautiful brown eyes. She held onto my hand, not letting it go, and a small smile crept up on her lips, buoyant as always.

"It's okay, Troy."

And for that second, I realized life couldn't be that bad. Not when there's people out there like Gabriella Montez, anyways.

* * *

_END OF CHAPTER_


	11. Fighting Inside

**GABRIELLA**

I have always been an expert at solving problems. Especially for other people. Someone asks me for advice - I give them a little insight. They end up thanking me over and over again, impressed over what I refer to as "mind-over-matter". Yes. I have always been the brainiac, often perceived as "the geek". I actually _enjoy_ Pre-Calculus. That just happens to be how demented I really am. Oh, and I like to write too. Not obsessively, just you know, those 800-word essays we're assigned to write in class. I have to hold myself back from jumping in my seat. I know; there's something wrong with me. You don't have to tell me.

Anyways, I have no idea how I got off-topic. . . but, people's problems have never really been a mystery to me. I have always been quick to figure someone out. I have to say I'm having a complete epiphany here. . . Troy Bolton has a problem.

No, I'm not saying he's some schizophrenic psycho path. I actually doubt he has any psychological problems.

I could tell when I first started talking to him. He would kind of space out and his eyes would just stare down at the floor sometimes. I tried not to judge him but the boy always acted so bizarre. He also had many mood changes. One moment he was grinning that million-dollar smile, the next he looked as if he was ready to plunder someone into the ground. He always seemed distracted, like something was eating him up inside. I could have a literal conversation with him and he just wouldn't seem focused on anything I was saying. I sometimes wondered if he _did_ listen to what I was saying.

My point? Well, nobody is perfect. Even the golden boy of East High wasn't. _Tha_t was something.

I instantly figured something was up with his mom. Maybe they had some distant relationship where he felt guilty about it. Or maybe he just didn't like her. She could have passed away in a car accident or something. I just knew, from that phone call we had the other night, he definitely didn't want to talk about it.

Then there was the abuse conversation. I never thought Troy would be one to react frenetically about it. He, of course, said it was just someone he knew that had gotten abused, but how was I to believe that one? He looked panicked, like he'd rather have died than me choose that as a topic. Okay, maybe I am overreacting. I cannot actually insinuate that Troy Bolton has to/had to deal with abuse. Really. _Then, _I will have seen it all.

At school, Troy was the hero, the main-man, the heartthrob that all girls drooled over. And if that wasn't enough, the guys practically bowed down to him. He had everybody wrapped around his finger. He never ceased to let anyone down either, never once dropped his guard. He was always put together, confident, as if he owned the whole school (which he practically did). Maybe that's why I couldn't see him as a victim of abuse. It just seemed outlandish in every way possible. He was far too, well, cliché - captain of the basketball team, stealer of hearts, best friends with the "cool kids", dated all the cheerleaders, sweet-talked the teachers. Everything about him seemed like your usual jock. Yeah. Well, except for the way he acts. . . when caught off-guard.

Why was I fortunate enough to witness the school's favorite at his worst? Why? It almost made me sick to think about the idea of him _ever_ dealing with problems at home. Was that pathetic? I didn't even know him, really. But he had that priceless smile, and the most beautiful blue eyes. . . I just couldn't help it. I was kind of falling for him. I know how dumb I am, and how ridiculous that sounds. He wouldn't ever think of liking such a plain Jane like me. _Never_. Kelsi even lectured me about this. I needed to stop pining over it.

I promised myself I wouldn't torment myself with thoughts of Troy for the rest of the day. Yeah, like there was much of a day left.

I just had to get through basketball practice without stealing glances at him.

"Hey Gabriella," Ryan Evan's greeting nearly made me jump.

"Ry. . . its just you. Hey, what's up?" I was relieved.

He began walking with me to my locker, "Not much. We haven't spoken in awhile. Well, at least not one-on-one. . ."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I've been. . . busy." I fibbed, opening my locker.

"Of course," Ryan only chuckled, folding his arms. "So, Troy Bolton,"

I had to stop myself from cursing as I almost slammed my locker door on my finger.

Ryan was smirking. Damn theater boys. "You two have been hanging out a lot lately."

"What is this, the monthly relationship survey? Where's Kelsi at?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

He rolled his eyes, "I have no idea - we got into a fight."

"Over what?" I turned around to face him, stunned.

Ryan and Kelsi _were_ the perfect couple after-all. They weren't allowed to have normal fallouts. They were just far too cutesy and "lovey-dovey". (The cutesy that made you want to vomit, kind of.)

"Um. . . I'm actually not sure," Ryan scratched his head, sheepishly.

"Not sure? You're kidding," I shook my head, "Ryan Evans, you cannot get in a fight with a girl when you don't know the reason why you're fighting. . . unless you've been together at least a year!"

"Its not a big deal," He muttered, looking away. "Anyways, what's the deal with you and Troy?"

Of course, he would change the subject.

"Nothing," I answered, almost disappointedly, "as if you can't tell - he has a fan club of his own. I'm not his type."

Ryan merely cackled, "Gabriella, he would have to be crazy not to like you!"

"Oh, I can go without the whole "you're-beautiful-just-the-way-you-are" speech, Ry," I joked.

"Well, he spends a lot of time with you. He chose you over his fan club last hour. Obviously that amounts to something." Ryan seemed awfully serious about this.

"He thinks I'm smart, that's probably why,"

"You seem rather set on the idea that he wouldn't like someone like you."

"He wouldn't," I concluded, "have you seen the guy?"

"Yes, I have. And that shouldn't intimidate you," Ryan surprised me - appearing more enthusiastic about the situation, rather than Kelsi who just told me to back off.

Maybe Kelsi had a crush on Troy herself.

"Can we not talk about this right now?" I plead, beginning to walk towards the gym.

He followed next to me, "He's actually nice. . . it's mind-boggling."

"He called me beautiful," I mused, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

Ryan copied my actions and turned to face me, "Gabriella. . ."

"Ryan! God, what do I do? He's so. . . weird. I mean, one day he's so sweet, the next day he's all distant, like his mind is somewhere else. If I could just figure him out, then I wouldn't worry about all of this. . ."

"Well, no person is transparent. I've never noticed him acting. . . distant. What do you mean by that?"

Does nobody else notice Troy the way that I do?

"He won't look at me, or he'll be staring at the floor, frowning. Like he's upset."

"Odd."

"Odd? See! Even you don't know," I cried.

"I'm sorry, Gabriella, I am no psychiatrist."

"See, and this is why we shouldn't have had this conversation. Now you know, so you'll tell Kelsi, who's already made it clear that I stand no chance with Troy."

Ryan raised his eyebrows, "No chance? That's rude. I understand you two are from different status quos, but him and Chad tend to go outside of that." He grimaced.

"I wonder what's the matter with her."

"It hurt me, I'll say that," I told him, "I already knew that, but she kind of rubbed it in, told me to not get my hopes up. . . which I haven't."

I bit my lip, hoping he wouldn't see passed the façade.

"I think you should go for it, despite everything," Ryan encouraged, a zealous smile lighting up his face. "I know you two are obviously different, and forget what Kels says, I don't know why she's being like that. . ."

He looked down for a second, as if thinking, then looked back up. "He did say you were beautiful - that's definitely something."

"Maybe. . ." I mumbled. I hoped, anyways.

* * *

Basketball practice was rather exhausting. I, of course, clumsy and all, again, shot a hoop and instead nearly pummeled Jimmy "the Rocket man". Well, it's his fault for hanging out on the bleachers so much. He just had to be lazy. He whimpered a bit about it too. Then Zeke mocked him, making his lip tremble and everything. I had to admit, it was almost funny.

I avoided eye contact with Troy as much as possible. I didn't need to see him all shirtless and sexy either. I knew I couldn't be mad - there was nothing to be mad about. I couldn't act like he was a weirdo either. That would just be dumb.

I couldn't help but think a bit more about what Ryan said. Could Troy actually like someone like me? It seemed impossible, forbidden like Romeo and Juliet or something. Then again, how cliché - the hottest guy in school likes the biggest geek of them all. Sounded about right.

Ryan and Kelsi seemed dysfunctional. _Really_ dysfunctional. She would glare at him from afar and then he would attempt to apologize for whatever they fought about. She wouldn't listen though - being stubborn and over-dramatic, yup that's a girl for you.

By time practice ended, I was drenched in sweat, as always. I felt like I was definitely better with basketball (besides the whole Rocket man incident).

The gym was clearing out and I realized I was one of the last people to get out of there. Before leaving, I aimed for a hoop, and it went in, perfectly. I couldn't help but smile to myself over the success.

I headed towards the door but stopped in my tracks when I noticed someone leaning against the wall. Yes, folks, it was none other than Troy Bolton.

He was on his cell phone (Blackberry, I'd guess?) and looked a bit annoyed. He was in his usual basketball shorts and t-shirt. He did look a bit sweaty, but I couldn't help but still feel my heart skip a beat. The boy was beautiful no matter what. And he just noticed me.

Our eyes met and he seemed more aggravated that I had seen him. He closed his phone and threw into his bag, groaning loudly. Obviously this was one of his not-so-happy moments. I pondered running out of there as quick as possible.

Interest brought me to him.

"Hey," I gave him a small smile, though I doubt that would lighten him up.

He barely responded, just nodded, and gave me a forced polite smile.

"What are you doing, exactly?" I asked, as if it was a joke, taking a seat next to him.

Yes, I felt stupid, as always, but I had to show him I didn't think he was a freak. I hadn't spoken with him since Darbus' class.

"Its nothing. . . you should leave," He suggested, coldly.

He didn't look at me.

Lord, what did I do now?

"Troy, nobody sits in the gym, looking as if they want to murder someone. That's just not normal."

"Its not a big deal," He assured me passively, "don't worry about me."

I swallowed thickly, trying my hardest to get him to look up.

"But, I do worry about you." I almost bit my entire bottom lip off.

I could taste the blood practically. I couldn't help but blush and turn around. Gabriella, you are as dim-witted as they come. . .

But Troy's eyes glanced up at me. I could feel my entire world stop just when I looked into those eyes. At the moment, they looked like a midnight blue, with the gym's light shining down on them. They were. . . extraordinary, if that even began to describe them. Why wasn't his face on the cover of a magazine for Christ's sake? He was just... wow.

He hesitated before saying anything.

"My truck broke down. I've been trying to get a hold of my dad but he's not answering," He sighed, "I'm pretty much stuck here."

"And you thought pouting by the door would help?" I gave him a soft smile that he only _tried_ to return. It didn't seem to work out. "I'll give you a ride."

"See, exactly what I was afraid of, _no_," Troy's words were firm, "I'm not gonna waste you gas or time to take me home. The least I can do is figure out my own ride. . . not rely on you to help me out. This is my fault for buying a piece of crap."

"You're being ridiculous, way too masochistic. Just let me, it'll save you another minute of pouting like a baby," I rolled my eyes at his stubbornness.

"I'm not pouting like a baby,"

"Troy."

"Gabriella."

"Don't be stupid, Troy."

He looked around, sighing, as if it was the worst thing in the world. "I'll have to repay you."

"No, you won't. You're nice to me and you actually acknowledge who I am, unlike your other friends, that's good enough," I assured him.

"Gabriella. . ." He began.

"Please, don't be difficult."

He got up from the floor he was sitting on, slinging his gym bag over his broad shoulder. I watched him, mesmerized.

"You're amazing," He muttered. "Most girls would have taken up the offer, and you just want me to be nice to you. . ."

"I'm not like most girls at our school." I reminded him, heading towards the door.

"Yeah, I've noticed that," He followed me outside.

* * *

I looked around the parking lot, confused on which truck was Troy's.

"Which truck is yours?" I asked as he came up from behind me.

Reluctantly, he looked around. His eyes rested on a truck relatively close to us. It was a sky-blue color, but the color was faded. It looked like something you would see in a junkyard, maybe. I remembered seeing him drive it before.

Troy broke his eyes away from the beast and didn't meet my eyes, "It's in the other parking lot."

I didn't understand why he was lying to me.

"Oh, I see. . ."

It wasn't something big. I didn't get why he was lying to me about his vehicle. I really had no care what he drove. I never judged someone on what kind of car they had. I actually never judged anyone on their riches in general.

Troy seemed impressed by my white, _Lexus GS_. The car was brand new - 2010, and it was a gift from my parents. Like I mentioned before, I've never been close to my parents. Sometimes it's as if they try to buy my love. I wasn't complaining though.

He didn't make any comments, but the look on his face proved all as he got in the passenger's seat.

I slid into the front and turned on the ignition, reversing my car out of the school's parking lot. Our school had two parking lots, by the way. One was in the front - the other was in the back.

"Nice car," Troy finally said after a few minutes of silence, "your parents buy it for you?"

There was a bit of bitterness at the end of this question which made me wonder about his parents, personally.

"Yeah, birthday gift," I answered, casually, "they are both doctors. They're rarely home but if they are, it's as if they are trying to shower me with things, buy my love, or something." I laughed, indifferently.

Troy didn't laugh.

"Oh. . . that sucks." He was looking out the window.

"No, I like having independence," I told him, "it feels good to know you can handle your own life, that you don't have to rely on other people."

"Kind of like I'm relying on you right now?" He had a teasing smile on his face.

"Well, sorry to kill your pride."

"It's not a big deal. I probably would have been sitting there all night if you hadn't saved me. . ."

"Why do you think your dad wouldn't answer?" I inquired, stealing a glance of him while concentrating on the road.

Troy seemed surprised by this question and hesitated for a second.

"I. . . don't know. I'm guessing he was tied up at work, or something." He seemed to preoccupying himself by rubbing the middle of his arm, almost nervously.

"Are you okay?" I asked, in reflex.

He faced me, all blue eyes on me, "Yeah, I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" Defensive.

"You just seem a bit. . . uptight," I shrugged.

"Yeah, I was thinking about how I'm gonna repay you," He smiled from beside me, his alter-ego disappearing.

"You are _not_ repaying me," I told him, shaking my head.

"Really, Gabriella, I am. And its not just for your pleasure, it's for mine too."

I glanced over at him, a bit confused.

"First, do you know where Ladera Heights is?"

"Um, yeah," I didn't know why he was changing subjects.

"That's where you're going. . . to drop me off," He seemed amused by my bafflement.

"Ladera?" I knew where Ladera was. It wasn't that far from my house actually.

For a second, I thought about it. It was a closed off community, reserved for wealthy folks. It wasn't too surprising, finding out he lived there.

"Yeah."

How cliche. But if Troy was so well-off, why in the world was he driving such a beat down truck?

"But, back to repaying you," He seemed to be enjoying this.

He wore a cheeky smile on his face as I took a glance at him. I didn't know what he was getting at.

"A date, this weekend, Friday, seven o'clock. . . sound good?" Cluttered words I could barely understand. The word _date_ was the only thing I could comprehend. Date with Troy Bolton? Yeah, right.

"D-date?" I blinked, taking it all in.

Lucky for me, there was a stop light, so I had to step on the brakes. Otherwise, who knows who I would have killed.

"Yeah, date, as in, me and you, hang-out, alone?"

_Alone_? Dear God. My life had just changed in the matter of seconds. One minute, I was lame, colorless Gabriella obsessing over Pre-Cal, now I almost feel worthy of something.

The light turned green and let off the brakes but I couldn't refrain from looking over at him. His eyes were challenging - they were desperate for an answer.

"Is that. . . not cool?" He asked, his expression turning upside down.

He looked so crestfallen I just wanted to hurry up and say yes. I had to say yes. Yes, yes, yes!

"N-no, that's fine. . . but, I um, I have to babysit on Friday," I wasn't lying, either which was even more painful.

I had promised to take care of Jacob. I have been babysitting Jacob since he was a little baby. His parents and my parents have always been close. (Well, mostly because his father is an anesthesiologist). Jacob was absolutely adorable though! He was only six but he could light up a whole room with his big blue eyes.

"Great. I love kids. . . I'll stop by at seven?" He persisted.

I couldn't even try and get out of this if I wanted to. I didn't want to. But of course, there was that nervous part of me that begged for mercy. Mostly because I wasn't one to go out on dates so I'd probably make a fool of myself and Troy would never want to speak to me again. Plus, _hello_, this was Troy freakin' Bolton!

"Yeah. . . that sounds good," I forced the words out of my mouth as he pointed to his house.

Of course, the house was wonderful. Just like him.

"I'll um, give you directions later in the week?"

"Sounds great, I can't wait," He winked at me, before getting out of my car and heading towards the front door.

Had I been paying attention and not in my own dream world, I would have noticed the tall, disturbingly skanky older woman come outside and practically yank him into the house, screaming at him in the process.

* * *

_END OF CHAPTER_


	12. A World That's Upside Down

**TROY**

Augustus snickered.

Time was suddenly halted as I looked into the eyes of the devil himself. I could tell he could see the fear in my eyes.

"What now?" The bitch asked with an ugly smile.

"Yes… what now, Troy?"

I heard a bolt of lightning crash from afar. It was beginning to storm in Albuquerque. This never happened.

The barn was cold unlike the weather. With a t-shirt and basketball shorts on, I couldn't help but shiver.

The air… it reeked of death – death and blood.

I swallowed hard as I heard small cries from behind me. I didn't want to look.

"Troy, this is _Jacob_." Sara was introducing me as I kept my eyes shut.

Jacob was just a kid, hadn't lived his whole life yet. He didn't deserve to die like this – on a night like tonight.

My heart ached for him.

Augustus grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around to meet Jacob's petrified gaze.

Jacob looked at me like he knew me from somewhere—like we were somewhat alike. With his cobalt eyes and messy mop of hair, he rather reminded me of the way I looked when I was young.

"Don't fucking touch him." I threatened underneath my breath.

I tried to wrestle my way out of Augustus' grasp but he was just too damn strong. Sara herself had him come to my house and force me into their dumpy truck. If only my father would have been home to witness the event…

Jacob looked at me with sad blue eyes. For some reason, he was trying really hard not to cry.

What little kid wouldn't cry?

I thought back to when I was a kid. My dad used to tell me that boys never cry. I always thought it was sissy thing so I held back. Still, to this day, I felt ashamed if I ever blinked just one tear. Even when my mom went away, I couldn't find it in me to shed a single tear. I locked myself away and channeled my despair to anger.

It just made it even harder to look at this kid.

"Just kill me." I muttered. "Don't kill the kid—kill me." I sounded desperate, pathetic even.

Our eyes were still connected. Were from the same world, after all. I didn't want this kid to suffer. He was someone's kid, someone's pride and enjoy. He had a whole life to live. How cruel to take it away from him at such a young age. He'd never be able to experience things we all have. He'd never be able to finish high school and go to college. He wouldn't be able to marry or have kids. His parents wouldn't see him grow up..

Augustus just laughed. "But we have so much fun with you, punk. Why would we kill you off? We love to torture you."

"I'd rather die then have you torture me any longer."

Sara just rolled her eyes, "He's just a little crybaby. One day we'll have our fun with him—just not tonight, August."

Fighting and shouting, I used all the strength I had to overthrow Augustus but it just didn't work—I wasn't powerful enough. He only grabbed my arms, as if to practically break them.

I closed my eyes shut as the sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the barn. And Jacob… his terrified blue eyes were now etched into my memory.

I felt sick to my stomach. The world around me didn't seem real anymore. It was all just a nightmare. The screams I usually heard in my head came back. I couldn't block out the obnoxious laughter all around me. I was slowing slipping into insanity. I refused to face the world around me.

Oxygen wasn't existent. Everything was becoming black. The last thing I seen was a look of panic on Augustus' face.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Augustus' voice asked.

"I think he's passing out. Dammit, get him back to the house."

* * *

I awoke to the sun shining through my window. My eyes wouldn't even open.

I wasn't sure what time it was or how long I had been out. I found myself in my t-shirt and shorts from yesterday, sprawled out on the bed. No covers were on me—even my shoes were still on.

My head ached and my stomach rumbled.

They must have taken me to my room sometime last night. I remembered passing out.

It then dawned on me—I had school.

I grabbed my cell phone to check the time but I was beyond too late. It was five o'clock in the afternoon. I had slept for hours and had missed not only class but basketball practice too.

I had messages from Chad asking where I was—he said the Coach was pissed.

I never missed a day of school so it was a bit odd for me to not show up.

I decided to get off my ass and take a shower. Fortunately, the house was silent so I assumed that nobody was home.

I threw on a pair of clean jeans and a t-shirt.

However, as I walked out the door, I faced horrible misfortune—my truck was at the school.

I got my Blackberry out of my pocket and dialed in Chad's number. It was 5 o'clock so practice had to of been over. Knowing him, he was probably still at the school with Zeke and Jason, shooting hoops.

"Hey man, it's me." I said as he answered the phone.

"Troy?" It sounded like Chad was with a bunch of people.

When he realized it was on me on the phone, he moved to a quieter area. "Dude, what's up? Where were you today?"

"I just needed a day off man—I was totally wore out."

"You wore out? That's new, Hoops." Chad only chuckled.

"Look, I need your help. My truck's at the school. It kind of broke down the other day."

"That's not much of a surprise—even my dad keeps telling you that the engine's gonna blow." Chad's dad was a licensed mechanic and owned his own car place—I often worked shifts there when I needed some extra cash.

"I need a ride, plus you know a hell lot more about cars than I do."

It was true. Because of his dad's experience, Chad knew a lot about cars. I had been stuck in similar predicaments and Chad always helped me out of them.

"Yeah. You're at home? I'm already at the school—Zeke and Jason wanted to shoot some hoops."

I frowned. Zeke and Jason were my favorite people right now.

"So you could help me then?" I was practically begging him—I couldn't be at this house any longer.

"Yeah, man. Of course, I'll help you. I'll be there in twenty, alright?"

"Thanks a lot." I told him. "See you soon man."

Chad got to my house in a good half-hour. He pulled up in his used silver Acura. I couldn't really make fun of his car though. At least it had a good engine.

I hopped into the passenger seat.

"So, you and Zeke make amends yet?" He asked, pulling out of my driveway.

"Doubt that—they've been acting like little girls for about a week now."

"Jason just does what Zeke does. Zeke will get over it." Chad told me, confidently. "So how are things? There's rumors going around about you and that Gabriella girl."

"Good for the rumors." I mumbled, aggravated with East High's constant need to start drama.

"So, you really like her?"

"We're just friends." I looked out the window, sheepishly.

Chad always knew when I was lying.

"Yeah, right. I've seen the way you look at her."

I have no idea why I didn't just tell Chad. I guess I didn't want it to become a big thing. I didn't want everyone to our business. That'd make things awkward. As if it wasn't already. I mean, Gabriella and I were from two different worlds. Plus, we're in high school.

Chad dropped the subject though and paid attention to the road ahead of him. We exited Ladera Heights.

"So what kind of shit did I miss in class?" I asked, hoping to distract him with another topic.

"Well, Darbus was pretty surprised you weren't there. She called out your name a million times. Then she said something like, 'well there's one less distraction'." Chad snickered at this.

I chuckled, "Sounds like Darbus."

"We just finished on our projects in that class."

I thought about Gabriella working alone in the corner. I hated to put so much pressure on her. She probably figured she'd be finishing the project all by herself—that I wouldn't be there to help her. I suddenly felt guilty.

Chad pulled into the school's parking lot right next to my truck.

God, it was a piece of work.

"Here, the keys."

He took the keys from me and tried to start up the ignition. Nothing.

"Let me check the hood." He popped the hood open and looked around for a while.

A few minutes later, he closed it.

He put the key into the ignition and tried to start it. I watched him mess with the wheel and press on the brakes and the gas a few times. Nothing.

He continued doing this for a few minutes. Finally, the engine roared to life—sounding worse then it ever has.

"You should take this to my dad soon. He'll know what to do. I'm pretty sure it's just the engine in general but you know how expensive an engine for this kind of truck would be…"

I sighed. I did know. I didn't have that kind of cash.

"But hey man, I'm gonna go back to the front and shoot some hoops with Zeke and Jason. You should come."

"Nah, I think I'm gonna head home actually." I told him, apologetically. "I got some homework to catch up with." It was a lie—I really didn't want to go home but no one was home so I wasn't too worried.

"Alright man. I'll see you tomorrow at school then."

"Yeah, thanks for helping me once again."

After waving Chad off, I backed my truck out of the parking lot and drove towards the front. I was going to back out into the street until I seen Kelsi Nielson and Ryan Evans getting out of a car and heading towards the entrance of the school. What were they doing here so late?

Curious, I halted my truck and parked it in one of the dead lots in the back. I closed the driver seat quietly and hid behind the wall.

"Why do we always have to do what you wanna do? Why don't I ever have a say-so?" It was Ryan's voice—he sounded angry.

"Because you're the guy! Isn't that what guys are supposed to do? Let the girl do what she wants? Why do you have to be so selfish?" I was pretty shocked by Kelsi's sour response.

"We need to practice our basketball skills, Kels! We totally suck. Even Gabriella is getting better then us."

"That's because she probably has private sessions with Troy. Seriously, what's up with _that_? Shouldn't she stay away from him? He's slept with about every girl in this school."

I winced—I hadn't slept with _every_ girl…

"Well, apparently he likes her. He calls her beautiful and stuff. Maybe you should just back off."

Damn, Ryan was being an asshole. Wait… how did he know I called Gabriella beautiful? That's… odd. Gabriella must have told him…

"Back off? You are so out of line, Ryan Evans! I can't believe I'm even here with you."

The conversation stopped as the front doors slammed shut. Huh.

I so wanted to go in those doors and find out what else they had to say. I couldn't keep creeping though. I needed to leave.

I wondered… did Gabriella talk about me? There was no other way that Ryan would know I called her beautiful. It seemed peculiar. Did she actually find me worth talking about? That was something to brag about…

I felt like a dumbass, excited over the fact she was _talking_ about me. Wow, big deal. It's not as if girls didn't ever talk about me. I was the talk of the school.

Whatever.

I didn't want to go home. Not yet.

That left me with one final destination. I dreaded the idea but decided it was all I could really do.

Chad, Zeke and Jason were all in the process of playing a game. Chad had the ball and Jason and Zeke were trying their hardest to swipe it from him. They were failing miserably.

Chad made a hoop resulting in a lot of swearing and cursing from Zeke.

Jason was the first to notice me. He elbowed Zeke. I could tell he wasn't trying to be subtle either.

"Hey man," Chad greeted me as he usually would. "You decided to play?"

"Yeah… nothing better to do." I told him, shrugging my shoulders.

I really did have no life.

Zeke's eyes met my own and the look on his face was not as harsh as I had expected. Instead, he looked normal. He didn't look angry at all.

Grudgingly, he approached me. "Hey brah…"

I wasn't sure how to respond so I just didn't.

"I know I was actin' kinda stupid the other day. Well, I've been actin' stupid. Shit, if you wanna go to college, you should go to college. Get edumacated."

I chuckled at his word choice. "Yeah, well I should've told you man."

"How smart are you really? Are you smart enough that I could copy off you?" Zeke asked with a serious look on his face.

I just rolled my eyes—back to the old Zeke.

"Will a college degree really make a difference though?"

"Yeah, trust me. Employers like it when you have a degree. At least, that's what my dad always told me. Look where it's got him." Honestly, my dad was kind of an ass. But the guy was smart. He'd never be short on money.

"Huh. Well, shit. I might have to work on my grades then. Nah, I'm jus' kiddin'. I'm totally fine with sitting on my ass working in a factory the rest of my life. Albuquerque doesn't scare me, you know?"

"I know." It wasn't Albuquerque that made me want to get away. Just some other problems..

"Well, you guys gonna stand around all day or are we gonna play some ball?" Chad asked, interrupting the awkward silence.

Swiftly, I snatched the ball from him, "Damn right we are, Danforth."

I aimed for the hoop and made a perfect shot, receiving glares from all my friends.

"So, you and Gabriella Montez, eh?" Zeke snickered as I retrieved the ball.

Not this again.

"We've just been hanging out."

"Hanging out? Yeah, fuck that. You look at her like you want her naked."

Chad pilfered the ball from me as I gave Zeke a look. "Naked? C'mon, Gabriella isn't like that."

"Yeah, that's what you think. Bet she's had sex with more people than you and me combined."

"That would be just me—you're still a virgin, Zeke." I liked to throw this in his face from time-to-time. "And don't say that about her. She's not like those other sluts." Dammit, now I was going in defense mode.

He knew now.

"How do you know that? Jus 'cuz of the church dresses and the Jesus hair?"

He was starting to piss me off. "Fuck you, Zeke. I know Gabriella. You don't."

Chad and Jason were playing by themselves.

"Well, shit, Sherlock, don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm jus fucking with you. Though most of those girls really do put on an act. Jus be careful man. I don't wanna see your dream girl goin' up in flames."

"She's not my dream girl." I lied, biting down on my bottom lip. "We're just friends."

"Whatever you say, Bolton. I jus know you want in."

Why did things always have to get so dirty when discussed with Zeke?

I grabbed the ball from a distracted Chad and made the hoop.

"He likes to act like he doesn't hear me." Zeke told Jason, annoyed. "It's 'cuz he's got a huge ass wood pecker in his pants right now at jus the thought of Gabriella."

I shook my head and dropped the ball beginning to walk away. "I'm out you guys."

Zeke just snickered. "Hey baby, why are you going so soon?"

I rolled my eyes as I waved to Chad and Jason, leaving Zeke shouting, "Come to my party on Saturday, brah! You can bring your sweetie if you want."

* * *

Friday was nothing special, nonchalant as always.

I was listening to my ipod, lost in my thoughts.

Ironically, as I pulled my head out of my locker I saw her. I'm sure there were about a million girls in the room thinking the same about me. But I thought she was beautiful. Beautiful to where she astounded me with just one single look.

I tried to swallow that lump in my throat as I maintained myself. Dammit. Zeke was so right and I didn't like that idea. Zeke should never be right.

"'Sup dawg?" Speaking of which…

"Hey Zeke." I took my head phones out, greeting Zeke, Jason and Chad.

"I'm missin' our car rides, you know. Chad and I found a new song."

"It's true—it's a lot better then the last." Chad confirmed.

I got my things and headed towards the restrooms. When I turned around, my posse stood there, still.

"Uh…"

"Well, this is an interesting destination." Jason remarked, like a dumbass.

"Privacy you guys?" I suggested, nodding to the men's room.

"So this is what it feels to be a bathroom predator." Zeke noted.

"Alright man, we'll see you at lunch." Chad was the one practically dragging Zeke and Jason away from the men's room.

I didn't really understand my friends. They were kind of like those girls in that fan club. They didn't know when to leave.

* * *

Lunch went by quickly. Eventually, I found myself walking into Darbus' class, anxious to sit next to an angel.

Of course, she was sitting there, looking flawless in a navy dress with some green pattern on it. It didn't even touch her knees—just revealed her bronzed legs. Her hair was down and straight for once. It was glossy and looked like she spent hours perfecting it. _Wow. _

"Hey! There you are." She seemed elated to see me. "Where were you yesterday?"

I took the seat next to her, "I wasn't feeling so great. I hope my absence wasn't total wreckage towards our project."

"Oh, don't worry!" She gave me a sweet smile as she took out a notebook. Several things were jotted down. "I finished it."

I felt guilty. "You finished it all? Damn…"

"It's OK." She told me with honest eyes. "Darbus sure missed you yesterday."

"Aw, I almost forgot." I lifted my head up, "Hey Ms. D!"

Darbus just looked aggravated as she glanced up from her stack of papers. "Oh… Mr. Bolton, you decided to join us today. I hope you're feeling better."

"I'm feeling a lot better, Ms. D. How's my favorite teacher?"

Some people chuckled.

"I'm fine, thank you. Now, why don't you get back to your work?"

"Was it just me or did she just smile after she said that?" Gabriella whispered.

"I told you she's learning to love me."

* * *

END OF CHAPTER

A/N: I am so sorry for my lack of updates. I'm in college now and college is so intense compared to high school. It's so much harder—a lot more to do. Anyways, this chapter was severely long. I didn't know when to quit I apologize. I needed a cute comment to finish the chapter. Well, review and I will update.


	13. Spinning Faster

**GABRIELLA**

"Gab, don't worry, you look great."

Yeah, easy for you to say. I thought.

I looked like a complete moron. My hair was coursed into layers of dark curls and my face was soiled in makeup. I looked more like one of those blonde bimbos at East High rather than Gabriella Montez.

T.J. was next to me, smirking like hell, as if it was the best decision I ever made.

I was wearing a casual long-sleeved sweater and a pair of fitting jeans. The idea of was to be 'casual' and to look 'effortlessly sexy'. Yeah, as if sexy and Gabriella could be put in the same sentence.

Honestly? I was nervous.

Well, who could've blamed me?

Sure, I've had dates before. They were all meaningless though. Flighty, even. Half the time they fell through and my date didn't even show up. Pretty sad if you ask me.

A date with Troy Bolton was something else.

"It's very…. Not me." I admitted, sheepishly.

"Well, you said he was hot. Like Ashton Kutcher, Taylor Lautner hot. Now, I'm not all for the Ashton Kutcher crap, but I seriously have the biggest man-crush on Taylor Lautner. He is a _beast_. Go to YouTube and check out how good he is at martial arts. Fucking beast, I swear…"

I wasn't even listening to T.J.'s mindless rambling. I could care less about how good-looking Taylor Lautner was at the moment. I knew T.J. had his obsessions. Had I been really paying attention, I could have seriously made fun of him.

I was too busy becoming squeamish over the fact that I had to hang out with Troy Bolton. _Alone._ I was absolutely terrified. What would we talk about? Would he have one of his mood swings? Or would he be Prince Charming?

"Hello? Gab? Brie? Ella? Are you home?" T.J. was waving a hand in front of my face, breaking me out of my daze.

"You actually said my name like you were talking to three different girls, you know."

"I know. Pretty cool, eh?" He smirked.

Within a second the smirk fell. "Off-topic. You look scared. You alright? Need another back massage?"

"No, I'm fine."

You know, you're probably wondering why I don't have any girl friends that can pep me up about my date with Troy. Pathetic, really. I'm relying on heterosexual male to make me feel better. Kelsi sure wasn't someone to talk to about boys. Especially not Troy. There was always Ryan, who was kind of like a girl…. But…

T.J. was so much funnier. He was always so buoyant and light-hearted. He could give anyone that confidence they needed. He knew all the right things to say, after all. Plus, he was my bestie.

(I know how lame the term 'bestie' is. I always thought it was reserved for 30 year old women who get on Facebook all the time, go out every weekend and never really grow up. However, Teeg and I make it a routine to laugh about being 'besties', since we really are.)

Have I mentioned I think Facebook ruins lives? (Hey, I liked MySpace and Google. That's as far as I'll go. I _do _have a life. Well, not really. But I pretend like I do.)

Ahem… moving on.

"Well, guess I'll leave you to it."

NO! Crap. My eyes widened as I nearly pummeled T.J., not wanting him to leave yet. I didn't want to be all alone, left to go insane over whether this night was going to be a success or not.

"Geez, chill. You'll be just fight. Just be yourself and be 'effortlessly sexy', be promiscuous. You know, like the song."

I _hated _that song.

He gave me a half-hug. I pulled him into a full one.

"You really like this guy, Gab?"

"Yeah… I do. He's just so hot and cold, I don't know where to begin." I confessed, biting on my bottom lip.

Teeg breaks the embrace, looking me in the eyes. I always felt better while looking into his eyes. Sincere, teal eyes glanced back at me.

"Don't sweat it. He likes you. Remember that. Who wouldn't?" With a grin, he gave me a small kiss on the forehead. "See you later kid."

I grumbled, watching him head towards the door. Great.

I was left to obsess over my image in the mirror. Dammit, I needed more eyeliner. Or maybe more foundation. That disgusting looking whatever it was still lingered on my chin… Oh, that was a small freckle. I forgot.

I decided to surrender, taking a seat on the couch. I was tempted to watch some Grey's Anatomy. I really debated over it. McDreamy or McDate? I wasn't sure which one to really fixate my attention on.

Captivated in my thoughts, I hadn't realize the phone started ringing. I nearly jumped.

I answered it, expecting to hear from some of my parent's snooty friends.

"Gabriella?" Indeed, it was one of my parent's friends. But she wasn't snooty.

"Mrs. Anderson?"

"I'm… so sorry to bother you." Something seemed off about the tone of her voice.

Mrs. Anderson was Jacob's mother. Which reminded me…

Oh shit. I was supposed to babysit Jacob today! Around this time too.

Immediately, I felt guilty. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I completely forgot I'm supposed to pick up Jacob right now. I'll get right to it…."

"No, no, please." She cut me off, quickly. "He's…. not home."

My eyebrows furrowed and I didn't really comprehend her words. "Not home? Is everything OK, Ma'am?" Although I hated calling anyone 'ma'am', I was sick of calling her Mrs. Anderson.

There was a discreet sniffling I could hear on the other line. I knew it was coming from Mrs. Anderson herself but I wasn't sure what was the matter. Had something happened? I began to worry. All concerns over Troy Bolton completely vanished.

"It's… Jacob. He's missing. He's been missing…" She could barely put the words together before she erupted into a fit of tears.

"Mrs. Anderson… I…" I didn't even know what to say. I was speechless. The root of my mouth suddenly became so dry, I couldn't form complete syllables.

I've babysit Jacob since he was a little baby, about one, actually. He was about five now and it still seemed like he was a fetus. He was such a great kid too. He was always happy, always playful. He rarely put up a fuss. A real intelligent kid too, always made observations about things most kids couldn't even begin to understand. I was convinced he had a photographic memory because he remembered _everything_. He couldn't be missing. He had to grow up and become a neurosurgeon… he couldn't be missing!

"I'll come over." I suggested, finally getting some words out.

My heart ached for her. I couldn't even imagine what she was going through – what her _family _was going through. I needed to be there. My parents couldn't be so I needed to. I knew if they weren't so busy, working all the time, they would definitely be there. In a second.

"You really don't have to, dear. I just… wanted to let you know because he was going to go with you tonight…" Mrs. Anderson was definitely fragile at this moment. Scratch that, she had already broken. She was afraid for her first born.

"I'm coming." I said, firmly.

"Well, we're currently at my mother's. He was last seen over in this area." She gave me an address and I realized it was right around the bend from Troy's neighborhood.

When we both hung up the phone, reality kicked in. _Troy_.

Almost paradoxically, my cell phone began to ring. The name 'Troy' was flashing across the screen, along with his beautiful face. My heart hammered against my chest. What was I going to say?

Deciding ignoring him would be extremely cruel, I answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey, what's up? So… I'm leaving for your house."

I could barely think straight. "No." I managed to scramble out.

"No?" He seemed confused.

"I mean… I um, something kind of came up. An emergency."

"An emergency?" He asked, disbelievingly.

"A personal emergency. I have to go… do this thing." I didn't want to get into details. Jacob's life kind of depended on me.

Troy didn't seem to be handling this very well. "Personal? So you can't tell me, I'm guessing?" He seemed a little offended.

I would have been offended too. I was acting extremely outlandish and kind of cold. It wasn't like me to act that way around Troy. Normally, I was cheerful and well, considerate rather than rude and impolite. However, at this very moment, so many things were coming through my mind like, 'Was Jacob going to be okay?', 'Was he dead?', 'Will he die eventually?', 'How did they lose him?'.

"I will call you later." I decided that sounded the best.

"So.. rain check? Reschedule maybe?" He asked, avidly.

It really broke my heart when he asked this. I was such a wreck I couldn't even be honest with him. I had no idea what the weekend brought now. Things were about to get complicated. I couldn't even think about my feelings for him. I was far too overwhelmed.

"I'll call you." I confirmed, biting my bottom lip so hard I could taste it as it began to bleed.

I could hear him shuffling around on the other side of the phone. "…Alright." His voice became more monotone, like the way it sounds when he was angry or distant from me.

I felt incredibly guilty as we said our goodbyes and I hung up. Now I was the one leaving _him _hanging. Why did I feel so horrible about it? He does it to me all the time.

Well, I trust there's more to Troy then what meets the eye. Another words, there's more behind the façade of perfection then what he displays.

* * *

**TROY**

I was crushed.

I had my hair plastered up, all spiked and styled like one of those guys you see in the hair magazines. I really took the time to do it. Now I just felt stupid. And like a queer. Seriously. Ryan Evans.

Sorry, I like the guy, but he would sport this hairstyle in a heartbeat.

I was looking at myself in my car's mirror. I normally didn't feel so great about myself (minus my eyes and my muscles), but tonight, I looked good. Not the usual, "oh, there's Troy Bolton" good. But really good. Like a guy in GQ good.

I was wearing my favorite dark blue sweater and a pair of new jeans I bought just yesterday. I was ready for the date.

I was actually on my fucking way to her house, actually.

The rebuttal hit me harder than I would have expected. I was so disappointed. I actually stopped on the side of the road to pound my fists against my steering wheel. No wonder the horn sounded like a dying cat. I beat it to pieces when I was angry.

I wasn't good at keeping calm. Not when I had to go home and deal with Sara and my dad all night. I was looking forward to getting out of the house for once. Gabriella really took away my cares. When I was with her, I forgot about all my problems. Now I was back at the beginning – staring them right in the eyes.

A sickening feeling approached my stomach. It wasn't just because I hadn't ate in two days either. (Could you believe I was still alive?)

I decided to start my car back up and head home. Maybe I could find some homework to do or study for some test. I could even attempt to apply for some scholarships for college.

None of the following sounded half as exciting as hanging out with Gabriella. What was her better excuse, anyways? I knew I was an ass to her sometimes but was I really not good enough for her? Maybe she seen right through me – the insecurities, the trust issues. I wasn't sure. It just seemed like she was far too short with me on the phone, like maybe she changed her mind and didn't like me anymore.

I unlocked the front door and headed into the kitchen, getting an apple from the bowl in the middle of the table. Damn. I was really aggravated by all of this. Girls never cancelled plans with me. Especially not at the last minute. I didn't even think anything _serious _happened. No, Gabriella would tell me about that, wouldn't she? She was always so straight with me, down to the point. Why in the hell would she act so mysterious about whatever it was she needed to do?

I never seen her walking with any guys in the hallway or anything, besides Ryan. God, I was an idiot. Now I was assuming she was hanging out with some other guy. Maybe it was that T.J. character.

Feeling a little nauseous, I threw away the apple.

They seemed close enough.

I knew I wasn't the only one who noticed how beautiful Gabriella was. Even my friends admitted she was attractive. She may have not threw herself at guys and walked around half-naked but she sure as hell wasn't hard to look at.

I continued overthinking the situation as I drove myself more insane by the moment. Fortunately, my dad and Sara were nowhere to be found. They must have went out or something like every other normal person would do on Saturday night.

Every one except me, of course.

My phone beeped loudly from inside of my backpack. Curiously, I got my blackberry out to find I had a text message along with a picture message from Zeke.

I chuckled. It was a picture of Zeke and two cute girls. I'm pretty sure I dated one of them, or maybe hooked up with one…

_Sux u couldn't make it 2night bro. If u get done with the date early, bring her to the party. We miss u._

Zeke rarely said words like 'Miss you', so this was a whole new thing. He was probably drunk, getting all emotional. Yeah, he was the guy at the party that was always hugging on everybody and telling all his guy friends he loved them. It was kind of funny.

I thought about the text for a little while, actually contemplating over whether I should call him and head out to the party. I hadn't been to one in a long time and I really hated them. I despised how people were so moronic when they were drinking – sleeping with strangers and saying the most embarrassing things.

If I didn't go, I'd be stuck inside all night, sulking.

So I called and told him I'd be over in a second.

* * *

Zeke's party was nothing new. There were drunken fools everywhere, pouring Vodka and Tequila down their throats. Others were making out wildly, dancing half-naked to a Chris Brown song.

A few people said hey to me, waving to me, excited to see me. I used to be the biggest party animal of them all, so yeah, they were pretty psyched to see me show up for once.

Zeke was in the corner of his living room with two attractive girls, his arms around both of them. Next to him stood Chad, who looked extremely uninterested in everything. Jason was on Zeke's other side, drinking a beer. He was leaning against the wall, acting as if he was hot shit. Nothing new.

"T man!" Zeke seemed elated to see me as he threw an arm around me, slapping my back.

I gave him a half smile, "Hey man, what's up?"

"Hey _Troy_," The two girls slurred, smiling at me mischievously

"Ay, ay, girls. Remember, you're Zeke's tonight." Zeke reminded them, wrapping his arms back around them tightly.

"Hey Troy." Chad greeted, approaching me. "Man, can't believe you actually came."

"Where's Taylor?" I asked him. Maybe that's why he was so bored.

"Eh…. She had to go see her grandparent's this weekend. It's just me. Kind of bored. What happened to your date?"

"Yeah, really mane. What happened to your date?" Zeke repeated, looking anxious. His girlfriends looked just as zealous.

I scratched the back of my head. Humiliated. "Uh, something came up."

Zeke's eyebrow raised. "Huh? Aw, hell no, man. Gabriella did not blow your fine ass off!"

"I think it was an emergency." I knew that wasn't a good alibi at all.

The guys were still going to rip me to shreds.

"Fuck that. Emergency? She blew you off!" Zeke seemed pissed.

"Seriously? What happened?" Chad acted like he believed me but I knew he really didn't.

"I'm… not sure. Don't really wanna talk about it, actually." I looked away, stopping one of Zeke's bartenders who was walking around the room giving out shots.

I grabbed a shot glass from her, nodding at her appreciatively as she walked away.

Fuck it.

"Damn…" Zeke mumbled. "What a bitch. She's probably got some chemistry test comin' up or something."

Chad looked concerned. "Troy, you OK man?"

I downed the shot, ignoring his question.

"Troy, if we were Gabriella, we'd never do that! You know that." One of the girls by Zeke squealed, batting her eyelashes.

"Thanks." Didn't really make me feel any better.

"Well…. I'd say fuck her. There's a lotta fine ass women here. Like Sharpay. Dude, she dyed her hair. And it looks _hot_." Zeke elbowed me. "I didn't think she could get any hotter."

Sure, Zeke and Sharpay had a pretty long-term relationship at one point in time, but you'd think eventually Zeke would get over her. He always obsessed over her from time to time. I kind of understood. I had a thing with Sharpay for awhile, and she was super cute. She was also very high maintenance and I know she didn't care about me the way I cared about her.

Sharpay dying her hair was a whole new level of crazy though. Sharpay was a blonde. Always has been, always will be. Or so I thought. Maybe something happened. It definitely wasn't like her to change anything. She always wore pink clothes covered in rhinestones, with the occasional color change. She was very girly. And she adored her long blonde hair. I did too. Every guy did.

"That's nuts. She must have lost it."

"She does look good though! I asked for her number." Jason added in, looking dejected. "She said I should just 'screw off'. It really hurt my feelings, ya know. So I get what you're going through, Troy."

I gave him an erratic look. Yeah. Right. Jason Cross would never understand my life nor would he get how I felt about Gabriella. I was falling really hard for her at no given speed. It was unlike anything I've ever felt in my life.

A wave of animosity countered me again and I decided to avoid it by taking another shot.

Chad was looking at me nervously. He knew what happened when I drank Tequila. But he wasn't going to make a comment because he knew I was ticking time bomb at this point.

"Hey guys, I'm gonna go to the restroom real quick, I'll be right back." All the groups of people were making me kind of neurotic. I was really claustrophobic.

My friends just nodded at me, as Zeke continued to flirt with the women next to him.

Rolling my eyes, I stepped away from their group. I was starting to sweat and I knew I was getting pretty intoxicated. Honestly, I hated alcohol and what it did to people. More importantly, I hated it because of my dad. He was always drinking. Then he would yell and bitch at me about Sara.

Just _thinking _about Sara made my head spin ten times faster.

I headed down the hallway, becoming lost in the photos on the walls. There were a bunch of Zeke and his brothers. Zeke had about four brothers and they all were as large as him. Then he had a little sister who they insisted on picking on. I felt bad for her sometimes. She was super tiny and stuck with five assholes for life.

I groaned. But even living with Zeke would be better than what I have to go through day in and day out.

Not watching in front of me, I must have ran straight into someone because there was a loud shriek in front of me, along with glasses of wine breaking on the floor.

"Oh my God, sorry!" I bellowed out, kneeling to help pick up the pieces of broken glass.

As my eyes looked upwards, I was caught up in a pair of dark brown eyes that looked very familiar. "Shar?"

Sharpay sighed. "God, look at this mess! Figures. You know, these stupid friends of mine wanted me to take them their wine because they're too busy dancing to do it themselves! Lazy."

"Troy?" It then dawned on her who she was talking to.

"You're… brunette." I managed to say.

"And you… have product in your hair. How… feminine of you." She was snickering at me.

However, I couldn't even keep my eyes off of her new hair. She looked hot…. I mean, really hot. Her hair was longer then I could remember. And she was wearing a tight purple dress that hugged her waist and breasts accordingly. Plus, she was revealing a little cleavage. Maybe it was because I was annihilated, or maybe it was because I was horny… I wasn't sure. But she looked really good.

"Troy Bolton never has product in his hair unless he's going to a dance or a funeral! What's the deal?"

I rolled my eyes. "I had a date… well, not really."

She threw away the remains of the glass in a trashcan nearby. "Gabriella Montez?"

Seriously, keeping secrets around here was impossible.

"Didn't work out."

"Oh, damn. That sucks. Well, at least you're here, having a good time. Your eyes tell me you've been drinking." Her eyes sparkled. "That's new. I thought you quit."

"Yeah. Well, one night's not gonna hurt. Anyways, you don't look like you've been holding back yourself."

"Do I _ever_?" She grinned like a cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland.

That was true. Sharpay was never afraid to drink someone under the table. She was damn good at it too.

"Are you gonna go back?" I inquired.

She shrugged. "After this mess I made? They'll be pissed. And plus, I don't wanna go back out there and see Dave mooching on Martha."

"Who's Dave? And Martha? As in, science geek Martha?"

Sharpay nodded. "Dave's the guy I've been dating for the passed six months…. Until, well, he dumped me. And started dry-humping her with every chance he gets."

I made a face. Martha over Sharpay? That was crazy talk. Martha wasn't foul or anything but she wasn't half as attractive as Sharpay. Martha also had a bit of a weight problem, has since she was a kid. She also had the most obnoxious personality. Her laugh was downright _annoying_. I couldn't bare to even be in the same room with her for too long.

"Who's Dave? Sounds like a douche to me."

Sharpay grabbed a few drinks off the table near the hallway and handed me one. "Trust me. He is. He's on the football team."

"Figures."

In East High, all the guys on the football team were douchebags. Alright, that may sound a bit judgmental, but it was true. They all thought they were big and tough just because they were football players. They were always trying to start fights. A lot of them got expelled because they'd start fights in the cafeteria just for the hell of it. Or they would take steroids to get buff. Whatever.

Taking a swig of the mixed drink in my hand, I found myself getting irritated with the loud voices around us. "You wanna go upstairs and talk?"

Sharpay nodded. "Yeah, the loud music is seriously making me deaf."

I opened the door to Zeke's bedroom which was a hell lot nicer than most guys' bedroom. It was more like a suite than a bedroom. The bed was king-sized with blue sheets and a patterned comforter. The room was large and lights were dimmed like some sort of sex scene in a movie.

Or maybe…. I was just really drunk.

Sharpay took a seat on the bed, drooping her head sorrowfully. "I just can't believe it, you know? I _really_ cared about him. Then he dumps me because I'm 'too obsessive', or whatever."

Obsessive? I snorted. Yeah, Sharpay was far from that.

"I can't believe Gabriella passed up a date with you. What a dumb bitch. She obviously doesn't understand that you're um…. Hot. And well…. That you're hot." She slurred, grinning at me.

"Gee, thanks, Shar. Because that's what love's all about."

I took a seat next to her, looking up at the ceiling. "I can't even read her…"

"Every single girl who's ever known you has liked you. Why wouldn't she? I'm sure she does. She's just…. Stupid." Sharpay said, trying to comfort me. She laid a hand on my jean leg.

I looked into her bloodshot eyes. "Shar, you're really drunk."

"Really? Oh. Damn. Does my hair look good? I know I kind of went overboard but I'm just so sick of the same thing! Plus, Dave keeps eyeballing me now. I think he likes it."

"Fuck Dave." I growled, ignoring the almost terrified look on Sharpay's face. "He's obviously a douche."

"Why don't we ever talk like this anymore? I know we dated and it got awkward but…. We should still be friends and be able to talk like this!"

She was right. This was a first for us.

"Maybe we should get drunk more often." I suggested, grinning.

"Drunk? I thought this was sober! Troy. Do you ever miss me?"

I looked over at her, unsure what kind of question that was. Her eyes looked different now. Even in the darkness, I could see them sparkling at me, as if maybe she never really got over me.

Hell, she was the one to break up with me. This was shit.

I thought of Gabriella, instantly. Why didn't she like me that way? Wasn't I good enough for her? Did she know about my life, about my dad and Sara? What if she could see right through me and she knew I was a piece of shit?

God, I didn't even want to think anymore. I breathed in and out, lying my head down on the pillow.

Sharpay wasn't surrendering. She moved closer to me and trapped me to where I was pinned down on the bed. I could barely make out the black bra she was wearing underneath her dress but it was enough to give me an erection as her fingertips traced lines down my neck. And for some reason, I really wanted her to come closer.

In my mind, I couldn't stop thinking about Gabriella. And my shitty life. Did I really need to resort to this to feel better? Man, I was drunk enough. Even Sharpay was a little blurry. The room was spinning and I felt like I was going to burst into giggles like a little kid.

Everything I stopped feeling for Sharpay seemed to resurface and I was wanting her about as bad as I did a year ago.

Was it the alcohol or was it real? I couldn't even decide. She then dipped down and her lips tickled my own. Not enough.

My arms around her waist, I turned around to where I was on top of her and began to undo my pants.

I ignored the vibrating phone in my pants as I threw them away from the bed, beginning to unzip her dress from the back.

She giggled and I grinned at her sexily.

I was about to go inside of her from underneath the covers when a knock was heard at the door.

"Ay? Anyone in here?" Fuck, it was Zeke.

I heard Sharpay breathe sharply as I stumbled, trying to get myself off of her.

It was too late, Zeke had opened the door to reveal the two of us, underneath the covers. Sharpay's face was pink as was my own.

And then it all came back. Reality.

* * *

END OF CHAPTER


	14. What Do I Do Now?

**TROY**

Zeke was back out the door in a flash. It was as if whatever was going on between Sharpay and I didn't really matter to him. At least, not anymore. He used be the green eyed monster when it came to Sharpay. If anyone even looked at her the wrong way, he was going all ape shit on them. Maybe he was finally over her. Probably not, but _maybe_…

I decided this would be the best time to finish my latest proposition. By proposition I mean Sharpay. I wasn't sure why I was so attracted to her at the moment. Sure, she was always gorgeous in my eyes. I had fallen pretty hard for her. All those old, familiar feelings I had hidden away were resurfacing. I couldn't say no to pretty brown eyes.

I had pinned her back down on Zeke's bed, choosing to not talk about Zeke's unexpected pop in.

I could tell millions of questions were swimming through Sharpay's head. About Zeke. About me and my bizarre behavior…

She didn't voice her thoughts as I dipped down to kiss her lips.

"Troy." She interrupted, breaking the kiss. "Your ass is vibrating."

I hadn't realized my cell phone had been vibrating in my back pocket for the last minute and a half. Or maybe I chose to ignore it, not wanting to break such sexual tension. I may have been just a horny eighteen year old, wanting to get off. Or maybe I remembered how good the sex was between Sharpay and I. Hot, steamy, erotic. Kinky…

I had to keep it in my pants for a minute as I answered my cell phone, grudgingly.

"Troy?" A sweet, angel's voice played on the other line.

My throat went dry. Gabriella.

All of a sudden, doing things with Sharpay didn't seem so appealing. Disregarding Sharpay's pleas for me to stay, I put on my jeans and shirt and walked out of Zeke's bedroom, a complete fool for the girl who just called my phone.

Man, I was a little bitch.

I figured she realized she was too good for me, that I was an ass like everybody said. That would have been the easy way out. I didn't want to admit that I was falling really hard for her. I hadn't fallen since Sharpay, and I was still recovering from that whole episode. (As you could tell earlier)

"Hey… what's up?"

"Hey Troy… I'm so sorry; I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

Yeah. I wasn't. I was about to make a huge mistake, hadn't she called. This is why I never drink tequila. Even Chad knew that. He should've stepped in. Usually he was my chaperone. I know, it sounds lame. But best friends do that shit for each other.

"No… just, you know my head in a good book, that's all." I lied.

To any other person, that would've sounded like a good joke coming from my mouth. To Gabriella, I just wanted to impress her, for her to think I'm not a complete moron despite my constant mood swings.

"Books and Troy Bolton? Hmm, that's interesting. I just called to… well, apologize. For being such an ass earlier."

"Gabriella, its fine…"

"No. It's not. I was a complete jerk to you. Just because something was going on I completely blew you off without an excuse or anything. I could have at least explained…"

I knew it was inhumane of Gabriella to not feel bad after blowing me off completely.

"An excuse would've helped, but it's all good, Gabriella. Shit happens."

"You know, it's pathetic. I was sitting there, thinking of who I wanted to talk to. Kelsi and Ryan… no. TJ… no. I just wanted to talk to you. Because you're so easy to talk to. I'm not sure why… out of all people, I wanted to tell you."

At her words, I felt a little overjoyed but I kept that to myself. Guys aren't supposed to feel all mushy and shit over the little things.

"You can tell me anything." I told her, honestly.

"In that case… would it be totally forward of me to ask you if you'd be willing to hang out?"

She wanted to hang out with me? Still?

"When?" How high? I'll jump.

"… Fifteen minutes?" Damn, that was really pushing it. I had Sharpay all naked and sexy waiting for me in Zeke's room.

Well, I could always go fast. Sometimes faster is better. Especially when it's a one-time thing.

Hell no. I couldn't do that. Not with Gabriella on my mind.

"Yeah, that's fine."

"OK. I'll see you in a few?" I could imagine the smile on her beautiful face.

"Alright, see ya."

Slapping my forehead brutally, I hit the end key on my cell phone and headed back into Zeke's room. Fortunately for me, Sharpay wasn't naked. Instead, she was getting dressed. Almost fully dressed actually.

"Shar?" I was a little confused.

"You know, I never cheated on you, Troy." She suddenly blurted out, hazy brown eyes boring into my soul.

This confession shocked me. The main reason we broke up was because she told me she _had_ cheated on me. With Zeke, as a matter of fact.

"What? What the hell, Sharpay?"

She was putting one of her heels on. "It was like… every girl sat there, drooling over you. They would tell me all these things like, 'you better appreciate Troy, he's a good guy', or 'Troy's so hot, do you never get sick of looking at him?' Guys would tell me you looked at other girls, and they'd always make snarl comments about how one day I'd realize you're too much. And you were. You were just… too much."

"Too much? What? Because I did everything a good boyfriend should do? I fucking busted my balls for you – bringing you teddy bears, candy. I would buy you expensive jewelry on our anniversary or your birthday and you wouldn't get me anything!" Now I was getting pissed off.

"Troy… please. You were a god in this school, still are. Everybody wants you. There are hot girls everywhere begging for you to sleep with them. And now, it's like you don't even have the gall to tell them no. You've lived a hell lot more now then you ever have,"

"And I knew it. I knew when I let you go; you could live your life. You could go out to parties and not feel like an old man married for the rest of his life. I had to be a perfect person to date you. I had to avoid skanky clothes because people would say, 'Why would Troy date a slut?' I had to avoid being a bitch to people. You know how hard that was? That goes against my religion!"

I chuckled and looked down. "You shouldn't have felt that way, Shar. I never wanted a perfect girlfriend. That's so boring. I liked you because you're feisty and you don't give a damn what anyone thinks. The fact that you cared so much what people thought when we were together… I guess I get why we broke up. I just can't believe you'd lie about you and Zeke. I whooped his ass so many times because I thought you two fucked each other."

She rolled her eyes. "I know. We were talking but… he was only there for me, trying to make me feel better when the whole world was out to destroy my relationship with you. He was a good friend."

I felt like I got played. I literally had spent months of my life being pissed at one of my good friends, assuming he did things with my girlfriend. When really, Sharpay just couldn't handle being _my_ girlfriend. I didn't really get her perspective though. Why would she feel the need to be someone she wasn't just to make me happy? No wonder I was miserable so much in our relationship. She had changed. She became this faultless robot, who let anyone walk all over her. The Sharpay I knew would've put someone in their place.

"I'm sorry." I looked into her deep brown eyes. "You should've told me."

"I know." Her voice cracked with emotion. "I regret it every day."

If there was one thing I had a weakness for, it was girls crying. And seeing Sharpay break down into a weeping mess just made me heartbroken. The whole time I had been her boyfriend or just been friends with her, I had never seen her cry. She was strong and stubborn when it came to showing emotion. She hated to look vulnerable. And right now, she was vulnerable. Because of me.

Guilt rushed through me, though I wasn't sure why. I never did anything to hurt her. I was always there for her and like I had mentioned, I busted my ass to be a good boyfriend to her. She was the only girl I really catered to in spite of how she treated me. I always thought she was high maintenance because nothing ever made her happy. It wasn't like that. _I _just didn't make her happy. She needed to be with someone who has less of an audience, someone who isn't constantly scrutinized.

Instantly, I wondered if Gabriella would feel the same way. She liked to be alone, to be left by herself. She didn't like being under a spotlight. She must hate being around me.

Reality set in and I remembered there was a sobbing girl in front of me. I gave her a hug, trying to make her feel better.

"Don't regret it, Shar. Things happen for a reason. I know I felt something tonight, between us. I have a feeling you did too."

She nodded in my chest.

"Just because we felt something, doesn't mean we need to explore it."

"That's 'cuz you're in love with Gabriella."

Love seemed like a strong word.

"I wouldn't say _love_; she doesn't even look at me like that. Anyways, you and I both know I'm more focused on school and basketball than anything else. I have college to worry about. Relationships are just…complicated."

I discontinued the hug, holding her by the shoulders. She was broken. She looked as if she had just lost something great to her, like something had died. Man, I felt like shit. Did she really love me still?

Yeah. I never noticed it before.

"I know. You're busy." She mumbled.

"You know that if I ever need any favors… _sexual_ favors, I'll come to you." I gave her a soft smile and a wink.

She dithered slightly, the frown on her face weakening.

"You are one of the sexiest girls in East High. Flaunt it, Shar. And don't let any guy take advantage of you."

She swallowed. "Thanks Troy."

By the time I abandoned Zeke's house party, I had to speed down the road. I was worried Gabriella would think I stood her up. Sharpay was a mess when I left her but she definitely wasn't crying anymore so that was a plus.

She said she would text me later about everything which kind of struck a nerve. I didn't want to go on and on about a relationship that ended so long ago on such a short notice. Things were okay now. Sharpay and I were fine. I was cool with the fact that she lied to me and pretended she cheated on me with Zeke. Shockingly. Fine.

Maybe that made me an idiot.

I had memorized Gabriella's address which was kind of obsessive-stalker like if you ask me. Whatever. There were rumors going around like crazy about how I had my eyes set on her. She already knew how I felt. At least, I think she did.

By time I was at her doorstep, I was shaking inside. The house was like a castle. I remember she told me her parents were pretty wealthy. Pretty, that didn't even sum this up. This had to been worth at least a million. Definitely one of the nicest houses I've seen in Albuquerque. If Sharpay or one of the cheerleaders would stumble upon Gabriella's wealth, she'd be instantly invited into the club.

I knew Gabriella wasn't like that though – she didn't care about materials or things. She didn't care what anyone thought of her. She just wanted to live her life and be independent. This was one thing that just amazed me about her.

When she answered the door, all thoughts were lost. My brain turned into mush. She looked beautiful. Dark curly hair, the tips a chocolate brown, along with sparkling eyes. She wore a simple sweater and a pair of jeans that accommodated her curves. I had never seen her so put together. She was always such a natural, but with a little make up and some extra hair product, she was… a goddess.

She was smirking. "New hair style?"

I chuckled, nervously. "I was going for a GQ model. Fail?"

"No, no. Very GQ. Very Troy Bolton also."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No. It's a good thing."

"Well…. You look great. Like a goddess. I've never seen one before, but I'm sure there's one that looks just like you. Seriously. You look… wow." I was rambling again, something I often did when I was around her.

She just gave me a sweet smile. "Thank you, Troy. Are you going to come in?"

I just nodded, following behind her.

Her house was, like I described, a mansion. We entered through what I figure was a foyer. There was a long, spiral staircase that I guessed lead to the bedrooms upstairs. Everything was ivory, like something you'd see in a designer's magazine. The floors were tiled, the ceiling was high. There was a chandelier hanging from the top. It was like a maze you could get lost in if you stared long enough.

"Want a tour?" She had a small grin on her face, like an excited kid who just got some ice-cream.

No wonder she loved being alone. I would love being alone here too. It was a palace.

I followed behind her as she showed me the living-room with its plasma television with several remote controls. There was a collection of at least a million DVD's lined up nearby that she said I would get to choose from later. Cool. Seeing some badass war movies and action flicks definitely seemed to pique my interest. I knew I'd have to choose a chick movie though just for her sake. Just to make _her _happy. Everything was organized and in place, minus the box set of Grey's Anatomy that sat on the coffee table and _Never Been Kissed_ was on the top of the Blu-ray player.

I had to suppress a chuckle. How cute was that?

"So, are you gonna go into the medical field one day too?"

I asked as we passed a hallway filled with her parent's degrees and awards – PHD, Master's Degree, Bachelor's. Then there were some photos of the two with their white coats on, smiling for the press. They must have been talented.

"Hell no. I mean, it's a cool job, what my parents do… but I also want a life one day." She gave me a small smile as we continued on to the kitchen.

Again, everything was spotless. Gabriella must have been a neat freak, a perfectionist.

"So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" I asked as she finished the tour, taking us back to the living-room.

Her face darkened at the question and I suddenly regretted asking the question.

She swallowed and took a seat on the couch. I followed her suit.

"You remember that little boy I told you I babysit from time to time, Jacob?"

_Jacob_. His name was Jacob?

"Yeah."

"Well… just the other night, he was with his grandparents. They're such nice people, you know. And his mother and father… my parents have known them since high school. My parents would do anything for them. But you know that small plantation, not too far from your house?"

I wasn't going to play stupid and say I didn't know. Of _course_ I knew. I was tortured every other day of my life at that plantation. It was haunted. Cursed.

Ignoring the lump that had built up in my throat, I nodded my head.

"Well, Jacob had run off to catch the ice-cream truck that day. It just took a second. One second and…" She looked to her feet, her face filled with concern and angst. "He vanished."

Jacob. I knew… I knew. Damn it, I knew.

Although I hadn't ate a thing in days, my stomach churned. Horribly. I could smell the blood, I could see Jacob's tears and the way his eyes looked when he went through such pain. I had known what happened to Jacob. And I couldn't tell Gabriella.

I couldn't find the words. I had jumped up from the couch and darted into the bathroom she had shown me earlier. I know I was being rude but I couldn't hold myself together. I was kneeled down by the toilet. I knew it was coming. I had to deny the tears that wanted to fall from my eyes even though it burned. Jacob was dead. Because of me. He was dead.

_Dead. _No, Troy, keep it together.

I couldn't throw up. Not on a date. Not when I wanted to kiss this girl. I couldn't do that to her. To myself. I wasn't going to fuck up that bad. She probably already thought I was crazy. Still, she wanted to get involved. Maybe she was crazy herself.

I checked my cell phone. As usual, my dad was blowing up my phone. He always wanted me home, like I was some little kid who couldn't be trusted. He must have been drunk because his texts were all sloppy. I rolled my eyes. Typical. He was always drunk these days. Sara had brought out the best in him.

I ran my hands through my hair and decided I should go back to Gabriella. I felt like such a jerk leaving in the middle of such an important conversation. I couldn't even explain why I left. I'd have to think up a genius lie as always. I hated lying to Gabriella; it was like lying to God. She was a saint. She deserved someone who told the truth.

She was still on the couch when I came back to her. She looked a little confused. Still uptight over the whole Jacob thing and I just made things worse.

"Are you alright? You just darted out of here like you seen a ghost. You're so pale." She said, examining my face.

I must have looked sick. I felt sick.

"I know. I'm… sorry. I just… had to sneeze, didn't wanna be rude. But what you were telling me… it's just horrific."

I wanted to distract her from the subject of me. _My _lunacy.

"I know. I was doing research and I guess kids disappear all the time at that plantation. Did you know?"

"No, no idea." Yet I could hear the screaming echoing in my head, in my nightmares.

"I'm really worried."

"I'm sure things will be fine." I lied through gritted teeth as I noted the lines forming across her forehead. Jacob was really important to her.

"I know. I'm being silly. Just my parents would be crushed if something happened and they didn't know about it. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson are like family to them."

"You could call them." I suggested, trying not to get too personal.

"I might." Gabriella breathed out heavily. "Let's talk about happy things though. Like… basketball. Are you excited for the tournament?"

A smile formed across my face. "Psyched. Completely and utterly psyched."

"I bet. I really hope I didn't take you away from anything important earlier. You're just so easy to talk to. I'm not sure why. I guess because you've never judged me. You never judge anyone."

If only she knew why I never judged anyone…

I still felt a little guilty about the whole Sharpay thing, especially when I was receiving little beeps every few minutes from Sharpay herself, apologizing for fucking up our 'new found friendship' as she worded it. Evidently her confessing she never cheated was just a whole new level of drama. Honestly, I could give two shits less. That was a while ago. I was over it all. She acted like it was life-changing for me. Sure, in my heart there'd always be a spot for Shar, and yeah, my penis may do some bizarre things when she's around… but I knew it was over.

All I really wanted was to get off.

I knew Gabriella wasn't that type of girl and I've been obsessing over this date for the past few days. I was a moron. An idiotic, horny moron who needed a girl to do shit with him so he'd feel important. I was really insecure, mostly because of my second life. Because of the deaths, the nightmares, the abuse…

"So, Troy, what kind of movie did you wanna watch?" Gabriella asked, changing the subject.

I broke out of my musing and focused back on her. God, she was hot tonight. It was hard not to lose myself. I was dying to run my hands through her hair and memorize the curves in her hips…

Sensuous. Unmanly. God. Fucking save me.

"Anything you want, really."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on."

"Seriously. You choose. I'll watch." I placed my feet playfully on her coffee table, waiting for a scornful frown.

It never came.

"I see you have a thing for Never Been Kissed. Drew Barrymore's pretty hot. You can put that in, if you want. I've never seen it. Only heard girls rave on about it."

Gabriella had already gotten up from the couch and was looking through DVD's when I said this. She turned to look at me, an almost interested expression.

"Really? I figured you'd wanna watch some beast eat man type of movie, or guy chops other guy's head off. Something gory with lots of boobs." She chuckled.

"Those movies are so lame. Don't tell anyone, but I have a thing for romances." I gave her a wink.

She didn't respond to that, only kept her eyes on my own for a second. The second seemed to last forever, neither of us uttering a word. The only sound I could hear was my heart beating loudly in my chest. Could she hear it?

I acted so smooth, but damn, I was a wreck. What if that wasn't cute or funny? What if I just made myself look like an ass?

"In that case…" She finally said, grabbing for the case of the DVD.

In a minute, she was sitting down next to me on the couch as the movie started.

"What's your favorite chick flicks?" She asked.

I didn't face her. "Oh, you know the classics. The Notebook, the Vow, Dear John. Pretty much any Channing Tatum movie."

I was joking but it seemed to make her laugh. I loved watching her. And those dimples.

"So you seen She's the Man? That's definitely my favorite."

"Amanda Bynes pretending to be a guy? Holy shit. I remember some girl and I watched that movie and I thought I was going to cry from laughing so hard. It was embarrassing because she really didn't think it was that funny."

"I know! It was hilarious. I actually recorded a scene from it on my phone and sent it to Teeg and he just made fun of me, telling me I was out of my mind. This was at three in the morning though so he kind of had a point."

I laughed. "So this TJ guy, he sounds pretty cool."

Gabriella's eyes were directed at the TV as a wistful look appeared across her face. "TJ's great. Like I mentioned before, he's like the brother I never had. Plus he's a goof. He's always doing something outrageous. He's just his own person. Kind of like you. Does his own thing."

I looked down at my vans, rubbing the back of my neck.

As we were watching, I hadn't realized how hungry I had grown over the past hour. When the room became quiet, my stomach rumbled and I knew Gabriella heard. I was kind of humiliated over the fact I hadn't ate in days. So it definitely didn't sound normal.

After what seemed like the fourth time of my face reddening, Gabriella paused the movie, looking directly at me.

"Are you hungry?"

"… Nah, I'm fine." I lied, looking away from her.

"Troy."

"Gabriella."

"Troy…"

"Gabriella…"

"Troy!"

"OK. Yeah, fine. A little bit…" I admitted, finally facing her big brown eyes. They were full of worry.

"I know you have a committed diet and everything but you really need to eat. Come on," She ushered me towards her kitchen.

I took a seat at one of the dining chairs.

"How about grilled cheese? Simple enough? Maybe a soda?"

My nose wrinkled. "Soda? I'll pass. Have any water?"

Gabriella didn't take this response lightly. She went from looking in the fridge for food to being in my face with her arms folded, a frown etched across her beautiful lips. "What, too good for soda?"

She kind of scared me when she looked like that. In a dark, sexy way though.

"I'm on a die-t"

"Uh, as of right now, you're _not _on a diet."

"Alright, so I'm not on a diet." I chuckled.

"Therefore, you're going to get a soda. _Coke. _And some grilled cheese. And you're going to devour it."

"Coke? Aw, Gabby, that's just too much. You know what's in that shit?" I hadn't realized I called her Gabby until I finished my sentence.

When I looked her way, there was a soft smile playing across her lips. The nickname was so worth it.

"Gabby? That's weird. No one's ever called me that."

"Really? Well, our society sucks then." I joked as she began to pour me a glass of Coke.

It fizzled as she set it on the table. I stared at it for a good few minutes. Hesitating. I hadn't had a coke in what seemed like ages. I knew they were bad for you. I always tried to stay away from the unhealthy foods. Coke was just empty calories, nothing good in it whatsoever. Yeah, I may sound like an old fart, but what the fuck ever. I wasn't about to gain ten pounds over one glass of coke.

I finally took a swig, watching Gabriella as she prepared grilled cheese. I was completely mesmerized by her and the way her hair bounced across her back when she moved just the slightest bit. And the way her eyebrows creased when she was concentrating. For some reason, she took a lot of pride in this process and wanted to put just the right amount of cheese on my sandwich. I found myself kind of in a daze as I watched her, my fingers lazily stroking my chin.

God, I couldn't take it anymore. When she lit up the oven, I was ready. Although the soda tasted so good since I never had one, I was over it. All I wanted was Gabriella.

She was so involved in flipping the grilled cheese she didn't even notice me as I slipped out of the dining chair and approached her from behind. My breath was hot on her back when I noticed small Goosebumps appearing across her neck. She knew I was here now. The pan she was using was now just sitting on the stove, cooking by itself. I could see her eyes attempting to find me. My arms wrapped around her stomach, and I was kissing her neck when she turned around, brown eyes meeting blue.

Not a second later I had her pressed against the wall, my tongue finding her own in a lather of passionate kisses. She was so hard up against the wall; I was convinced I was hurting her. It didn't matter though. My hands tangled through her hair, this was wild. And then I couldn't control them as they moved from the bottom of her hips to the top of her tiny breasts. She made the cutest sounds when I did this, like she wanted to stop me but there was no control left on her side either.

The chemistry between us was insane. I never realized how much I could feel kissing one woman. How much I wanted to just flip her over and carry her to her own bedroom and show her what real passion was like, what real sex was like. But I knew Gabriella wasn't like that. She was a good girl. And I didn't want to scare her away; I didn't want to go too fast on her. For some reason, I cared what she thought. I never gave a damn about any girl's thoughts, but Gabriella…

"Troy." She huffed, our lips heavy against each other. "I gotta get the grilled cheese… it's burning."

Shit. Grilled cheese. Right.

I let her go, realizing I had messed her perfect curls up. But she still looked great.

I scratched the back of my head awkwardly as she fried up the grilled cheese sandwich and put it on a plate. I hadn't realized she had made me two as she plopped the plate down on the table.

The room filled with silence.

Unsure what to say, I decided to take a seat and try some of her sandwich.

"Wow…" I said between bites. "This… is amazing."

It really was. And it wasn't just because I was on the verge of starving to death. Literally.

Gabriella took a seat from across from me.

"So," I began, my eyes uniting with hers. "Do I get to see your bedroom, or is that too personal?" There was a hint of mischief in my question and I was hoping to get my attitude across.

Gabriella only reddened like a school girl and could barely look at me. "Um…"

"Hey, hey. It's cool. Don't worry about it." I was a moron. A complete. Moron.

"No… it's cool. You're right. I didn't show you." The sunlight danced across her eyes from the window, making them a more crimson brown.

It took my breath away momentarily.

"Troy?" She absentmindedly pulled a curl behind her ear. "Do you want me to?"

"Of course." The plate she had given me was completely empty, after all. Only bits and pieces of bread were left over.

I didn't want to tell her that I hadn't eaten in three days or that I couldn't _stomach _food at all. Not until I was with her. She made me feel wholesome again, as if there wasn't a giant fissure in my intestines.

I followed behind her as we head up the spiral staircase. My jaw dropped in awe at all the fancy paintings on the wall and the family photos. Evidently at one point in time, the Montez's were very close. Closer than ever. Family cook out's, family reunions, even birthday parties and holidays. And they were smiling. Happy and content. How in the world did Gabriella's parents become some workaholics? Wasn't life always like that for doctors? Or had they not always been in the medical field? I wondered, but kept my mouth shut.

I had seen enough doctor shows and documentaries after all.

Honestly, had I wanted to be anything after college, it was definitely something in the medical field. I thought all that gory, crazy surgery shit was cool as hell. The trauma part of it seemed never ending. There was always something new. You'd never get bored working in surgery. In a way, I looked up to Gabriella's parents. But it really made me see the reality of being a doctor – there was barely room for leisure.

I guess saving lives was enough leisure for them though. I've always wanted to help people. I couldn't now, I was too helpless. But maybe one day…

Gabriella's room was kind of like a fairytale. It was pink and purple like her, with a small canopy framing her bed. There was a large television in front of her bed, along with a large closet, filled with clothes and what looked like a shoe heaven. Sure, she wasn't one for style, that didn't mean she didn't have lots of clothes.

I liked her room. It was very her. Very girly and also had a lot of books. A fucking _library_, I may add. I grinned at the sight of her posters of Channing Tatum on the wall. And when I knew, I fucking _knew_.

Realizing this, she blossomed.

I made myself at home and collapsed onto her way-too-comfortable bed. She watched me, a looked on her face I couldn't decipher. It was way sexy though. She was kind of admiring me from the doorway, musing to herself.

"Gabby?" Yeah, that nickname again. Aw, fuck it. I liked it.

I hadn't realized I was slightly dosing off at just the touch of her bed. It must have been super expensive.

"This feels _incredible_. I'm so fucking sore." I muttered, closing my eyes.

"Do you want me to turn on the massager?" A slight smirk appeared across her lips.

I didn't even have to answer that one. With a touch of a button, every ache and pain in my body became minimized.

Gabriella took a seat next to me, watching me in amusement as I groaned in satisfaction.

"Thanks, you're an angel."

She was an angel.

And that was all I really knew before my world blacked out.


	15. Don't Know Where To Go

He was completely comatose.

It was unlike anything I've ever seen in my life.

One minute, he was in complete bliss, sighing and grunting over the way my bed massaged his back. The next, he was in his own dream world, astray from reality. It took a minute for Troy Bolton to fall asleep. One _minute_.

Of course, I didn't understand. Exhaustion rarely came to me. How had it taken its toll on Troy so well? The boy played basketball and studied, but was that ever-so debilitating? Was it so hard that it impacted his leisure? Could he have no leisure?

I should have been furious. The insensitive side of me was. Like I said, I was completely out of the loop. How did he manage to be there one minute then just fall into oblivion? I knew he had secrets. I'd do anything to figure them out. But was he sick? Did he have a sleeping disorder? Or was he just stressed out, overpowered by the constant studying and preparing for the big tournament? Could he not handle the pressure?

I contemplated calling TJ. Whenever I was in uncomfortable situations, TJ was the one that I turned to. It became a bad habit of mine, relying on my best friend. I became so dependent on him that I could barely give myself any advice. I tried to think of what he would say in this predicament. He'd probably tell me I was exaggerating – that if I really cared about Troy, I would get over it. Wake him up or even get in bed and try and sleep myself.

The thought of sleeping with Troy beset me. The only guy I've ever shared a bed with was TJ. And like I said, he was like a sibling to me so it wasn't something awkward. Hell, TJ and I shared beds when we were kids. He would sneak in my room and we would stay up late, telling each-other scary stories under the covers. We would pass out before dawn. Ever since then, the thought was never uncomfortable – never overwhelming. But with Troy, it seemed like an excruciating thought.

Troy was a good guy – he put others before himself. That I didn't have to think about. But he seemed so emotionally damaged. Certain things were impossible for him to say – like whatever happened to his mother. He ran away from situations that obviously rattled him in some way. So many times I watched him walk away. He strayed away from the uncomfortable, from the unknown. Who was to say he would even be _willing _to sleep beside me? He would probably wake up and cringe – heading straight for the door. Although the thought made me sick to my stomach, I knew it was possible.

TJ was with Carlie tonight – they had some sort of date planned. I wasn't about to intrude like I always did. We'd talk later and I'd get his opinion. For now, I would remain at ease. Why Troy was so tired wasn't my business. And it would be rude of me to wake him up. He looked far too peaceful.

Deciding to make the best of the situation, I took a seat on the end of my bed, so close to him that it felt like a sin. So many things had happened today. Jacob was found missing, the Anderson's a complete mess. Then there was the better of the day, Troy kissing me in the kitchen.

I smiled, reliving the moment. It seemed different than any other kiss I ever had. It was something so passionate, so infinite. Although Troy's hands often strayed from where they should have been, I actually didn't mind. For once, I wasn't going to say no. It felt way too good for me to say no. It made me realize how vulnerable I truly was to Troy Bolton's golden hands.

I took that moment to look at him. Words never summed him up as a whole. He was always too much to describe. He was on his side, his legs sprawled, taking up most of my bed. Every now and then, he would do something different – the toes in his socks would twitch or he would toss and turn. Sometimes he would rub his nose unconsciously. The tortured boy walking on pins and needles had vanished – he was now untroubled, in a world all of his own. Nothing hurt and everything was beautiful.

I couldn't even restrain myself. I was touching his hair, mesmerizing his face and the expressions he would make. Angst was never found and I wished it would only stay that way. I knew nothing of Troy Bolton's hidden secrets – I couldn't tell the truth from his lies. But neither could anyone else it seemed. The world was fooled by this perfect fabrication of a boy who didn't exist. Even someone so perfect had so many flaws. However, right now, in this moment, he was flaw_less._

I jumped to the sound of his cell phone's ringtone, blaring from the table adjacent to my bed. It was some offensive rap song. Honestly, I never knew he even listened to hip-hop.

I stared at the cell phone. I held an angel at one shoulder, a demon at the other. One telling me I should leave it alone, that ignorance is and always will be bliss. But the demon fought hard, saying it's better to know now than never. That thought resonated in my head a lot. I was sick of being lied to, sick of not knowing what was real and what wasn't. Whether I was the girl in the background of Troy's dreams or I was the girl _in _his dreams.

The demon won this fight from the start.

Cursing my stupidity and insanity, I walked towards Troy's blackberry. Why he didn't invest in a newer phone was kind of similar to why he didn't invest in a better vehicle: it was a mystery. The whole school knew Troy's father had more than enough money – was he not considerate enough to share it?

The flashing name on the cell phone wasn't what I anticipated. Maybe it was my karma for invading Troy's privacy.

It was Sharpay Evans – Troy's ex-girlfriend.

My heart contracting just for that brief moment. _Why_? Why was she calling with such urgency? Were they suddenly friends? I rarely seen the two talking in the hallway and there were no rumors about them lately. If Troy was still in love with Sharpay, wouldn't I of found out already?

The lump in my throat was large. And I desperately wanted to know the truth – what Troy harbored from me for so long. Why he acted the way he did. Maybe this was my chance. Maybe Sharpay had something to do with it.

Another sound was heard, announcing a voicemail was waiting. I stole a glimpse of Troy, who was still sound-asleep. This wasn't normal for me – I was acting out of character.

I guess in some aspects I was just like every other girl that liked Troy – rabid, unpredictable, and most of all- stupid. But I would never let him figure that out. To him, I wasn't that girl – I was the opposite of those girls from school. I wanted it to stay that way – I wanted to keep my composure.

But right now, I was just like the rest. Invading his privacy, sneaking into his business.

Tentatively I grabbed the cell phone, wondering if he had a lock or any kind of password for it. Of course, he didn't think like that so any person could look through his phone had they wanted to. My cheeks reddened as I seen the several missed calls from Sharpay, Zeke, and even Troy's father.

Evidently Troy didn't like to answer his phone.

I was a little glad that he wasn't on his phone while he was with me.

I began listening to his voicemails, keeping a careful eye to make sure he didn't awaken while I was meddling through his social life.

"Hi, Troy, it's me… Sharpay."

This was the last one she left, I realized, noting the time and the date.

"Look, I just… wanted to talk. I know I've left a few messages for you to call me. You must be busy or something," She obviously had something on her mind – what she wanted to say wasn't exactly critical but I could tell she was dying to say it. It wasn't some emergency – someone wasn't dead.

She just wanted to talk.

Talk. What in the world did she want to talk _about_?

"I've been thinking about what happened… or _almost _happened tonight. Between us."

My throat feeling like sandpaper, I could barely digest the information. Obviously she and Troy seen each other earlier. Who was I kidding?

"I miss you." The words were painful for her to say. "I really do. I miss us. And I know you're busy with basketball and school, but I think we should give it a chance again. Tonight, when we were in Zeke's bedroom – it was a big eye-opener for me. I realized I've been living a lie for the past few months. I'm not over you – I never was."

Holy shit.

Zeke's bedroom?

Squeamish, I couldn't even listen to the rest of the conversation.

I hit the end button immediately, my palms sweating.

I was a fool, I concluded. What was I thinking? Here Sharpay was confessing her unfathomable amount of feelings for him and I was wasting my precious time. The weakling inside of me beckoned to make him leave – to wake him from his slumber and kick him out for playing games with my mind. But the strong girl wasn't about to run so easily – she knew that things were never exclusive and Troy had the right to do whatever he wanted with whomever he pleased.

Still, that didn't change the tears that filled my eyes. It really hurt more than I thought it ever could. I knew heartbreak but this was so crisp; it had hardly begun. And somewhere along the way, I lost myself. I lost my pride and got in over my head. Troy Bolton made me fall like I've never fallen before, the speed faster than anything I could ever imagine. Between his heartfelt comments and his infectious smile, I had no room to make boundaries.

All I wanted to do was call TJ; he was the only one who would offer me to some comfort. But I restrained myself and went back to my seat on the bed, next to Troy.

Troy breathed through his mouth quietly. Occasionally, he would snore, but it would be so muffled, I could barely consider it snoring.

"You know," I began, in all my lunacy, "I wasn't always such an idiot. Snooping through guys' phones and watching them sleep. I'm officially _creepy_, as you would say." I chuckled, running my hand through my long curls.

I bit back the salty tears and continued my stupid, pathetic speech. "You could've told me. About Sharpay being in love with you… and you… however you feel about her. We're not exclusive—"I cut myself off, torn back by the emotions piling over me. It seemed so extreme I had to close my eyes.

"I'm not mad at you. God, I probably should be…but I'm not. I can't be mad at you. I'm a fool for you and your bull shit for some reason. I know you lie to me all the time…and I sometimes just wish you could be you, instead of what everybody wants you to be. Tell your damn friends you're a freakin' genius for Christ's sakes! Join me with my geeky friends and we'll dominate the world!" I laughed bitterly at this thought. _Never _would Troy Bolton do that. Even if his life depended on it.

"You know, even if the worst happened, if you were some, killer. And you had to kill someone else… I would so put a bullet in their chest, for you. That's how pathetic I am. I guess I'm kind of in love with you… and I barely know you." There was a sweet innocence he possessed while asleep, like a child who had barely lived yet.

I sighed, wishing I would have never spoken to the practically lifeless Troy in front of me.

But as I became tormented with more feelings, Troy began to fight in his sleep. Tossing and turning – grunts were suddenly audible. Like there was a war going on in this untold world.

Taken back by his violence, I moved away from his body. He continued thrashing in his sleep, crying out for some sort of help, some sort of alliance. But no one was there. It was some nightmare, some kind of worst fear.

Then, there was one word that was definite.

"Gabriella…"

All my thoughts, my worries, my dreams and insanity, my entire world had just stopped. Stopped within the nighttime. Stopped because of Troy Bolton's lips rehearsing my name – like I was meaningful to him in some aspect. The universe started making sense again and my heart was concrete in my chest.

But the way that Troy said my name bothered me. He didn't say it longingly. He sounded scared.

In one short second, he was up from the bed, breathing sharply, his eyes darting around the room in a complete panic. His breaths continued to be exaggerated. His face was sweaty and saturated. Blue eyes were more animated than usual as he finally placed his eyes on me.

"I fell asleep…" He barely seemed orthodox while saying this – his mind still occupied with his dream, I'd bet.

Before I could even respond, he was up from my bed, gathering his bearings.

_No_. Hysteria met me as I watched him getting ready to leave. I could tell it was nothing more than embarrassment that made him want to leave. He wasn't calm, collected Troy right now. He was on the brink of destruction and he wouldn't let me see that person. Assuming he just had a sleeping disorder and some corrupted dreams, I wasn't about to question his sanity, like I normally do.

"No," My words finally came out of my mouth and I was grabbing his arm.

His motor response wasn't what I expected. It cut hard when he jerked away from me, a look on his face proving he didn't want to be touched right now, yet alone _spoken _to. The tears that I held earlier seemed to come back as I looked at him. What the hell was his problem? My whole body shook as I just looked into his poignant blue eyes. He immediately shifted them away.

"I gotta go, I'm sorry Gabby."

Maybe the nickname made up for it a little. "I'm sorry… I'm an idiot. You deserve better."

Still a little traumatized over him repelling me, I had no response. There was no time for a response.

I just watched him leave, my eyes burning the whole time. My heart crying out for him the whole time. Why couldn't I just stop him, block him at the door, _beg_ for the truth instead of being okay with lies? Why wasn't I more pressing? Why was I _okay _with being treated like shit?

The front door slammed, echoing across the house. And I felt empty. Like I suffered from some great loss, although I'm not sure what. It was similar to the time my parents dragged me to my great-grandmother's funeral. I had to sit through the session, knowing nothing about her, only hearing stories about the idealistic woman she was. Everybody wept, everybody cried over the horrifying fate of her death. Of the cancer that took her. And I didn't understand – but I cried too. I cried because it hurt me to watch them cry. I cried because death was so unfortunate. I cried because of the collage of pictures showing the blissfulness, the wholesomeness of her life.

Neurotically, I dialed TJ's cell phone number, heedless to whether Carlie was there or not. I just needed some sympathetic words; I needed to feel someone's embrace, to feel cared about. Someone had to be honest with me.

TJ was cooperative and within minutes, he was at my house.

It was early in the AM, as we sat on my couch, watching those cheaply filmed scary movies with the constant gore and endless flash of nudity. For some reason, the unimportance of it all kind of distracted my mind. Though my eyes were swollen and my heart was aching, I kept myself focused. TJ kept his arm around me, looking at me like I was a broken vase. I ignored his wandering eyes and nuzzled into his chest.

As I was beginning to lose myself in the movie, my cell phone beeped.

To my irritation, it was a text from Troy Bolton himself, someone I didn't expect to hear from.

One word was typed across the screen:

_I'm sorry._

* * *

**TROY**

I couldn't face her.

I remembered the way she looked at me – like I was a broken record, like I was just something that could never be fixed. She looked at me like a psychiatrist would look at his/her patient. I was no longer strong, brave Troy anymore. And she seen passed the façade again – saw my inner monster. Gabriella Montez would never give me the time of the day again. Not after I fell asleep on her, not after I fell asleep on our fucking _date._

I despised myself so much that I contemplated doing irrational things to hurt myself. But I held back – realizing that was just moronic and pathetic. I wasn't suicidal – though I had thoughts about it. I wasn't self-inflicting – though it entered my mind.

As soon as I got into my shitty truck that night, I had to vent my anger. Whether it meant slamming my fists into my steering wheel or just blurting out hateful curse words up and down. And then I closed my eyes and tried to keep myself together. Apologizing just wasn't enough in this case – I had royally messed up and there was no way in _hell _Gabriella would ever look at me the same.

So I lied in my bed, glaring at the ceiling, cursing myself to hell. Gabriella was the only person in the whole world I could trust. And I shot her down again and again. I couldn't break down those walls I built so incombustibly. But it was going to happen. I knew eventually I would fall apart, right in front of her. And she would see the side of me I so badly wanted to hide from her. She already seen bits and pieces – the mood swings and the meltdowns. When she found out I wasn't local hero Troy Bolton, but a pathetic excuse for a person, she would never speak to me again.

I have no idea when I finally fell asleep. Must have been at least six in the morning. And I was back up by noon, getting text messages from Zeke and Sharpay. Sharpay was still going on about what happened the night before. She didn't understand why I wasn't talking to her – why I chose to avoid her. She'd been blowing my phone up since last night. And she was irritating the hell out of me.

Zeke decided to inform me that Sharpay was also running her mouth – letting most of the student population that she _almost _had sex with me. Like I was someone great and respected who only has sex with certain girls. My god, who was she kidding? I had sex with a lot of girls – some not even that good-looking. Why was she bragging when I couldn't even follow-through?

I just rolled my eyes throughout the whole conversation with Zeke, not even bothering to defend myself and the drama I obviously got myself into. He suggested it might surface the whole high school and Gabriella might find out.

_Gabriella. _The only thing that truly mattered.

I got off the phone and took a shower, having to rid my thoughts. Something about her just blew my mind. She was a fucking angel, a life-saver. And I wasn't messing up my chances. If I hadn't already messed them up…

I hated thinking about our kiss. Especially in the shower. It instantly gave me an erection. I was a guy, so my thoughts weren't always so platonic. Definitely not with someone that looked like Gabriella. She was such a goddess, especially when she fell into glamor.

Oh.

Gabby. I smirked. God, I loved calling her that. Her cheeks would always turn a little pink when I did. It was a little erotic, but I knew her mind was always so conservative. Though she did let me touch her, a little more than I expected. I imagined getting a smack across the face for even testing the waters.

When my hands ran across the curves in her hips. When all I could do was press her against that wall and get lost in her. Pretty sad I didn't even have to watch porn anymore to get off – just thought about Gabriella.

I got out of the shower and threw on a pair of old pants and an old flannel, deciding to make the best out of today – do some work.

When life got chaotic and I wasn't sure where to turn to, I often preoccupied myself with work. Since Chad's dad pretty much owned the car shop, he sometimes let Chad and I work on cars in our spare time. _Spare _time, as in when we weren't busy with basketball or school. Another words, never.

But today, I didn't want to think – I'd probably go mad. Like I spent my whole night tormenting myself over whether Gabriella hated me or not. After everything I've done to her – every mood swing, every time I've left her out in the dark… I deserved her animosity. I knew that much.

I almost had sex with my ex-girlfriend, and she still had feelings for me. But it didn't matter. Sharpay was just a negligible distraction. And there was never going to be anything more between us. I had moved on… finally. Maybe that night at Zeke's was an eye-opener for me, it made me understand that I really was over Sharpay, that my heart was somewhere else.

Sara and my dad were out for the night – doing God knows what. I didn't want to think about that.

I snuck out of the house and jumped into my old, piece of shit truck. God, I hated just looking at the thing. And the way the engine roared to life – neighbors' three streets down could probably hear me pull out of the driveway.

Seeking escape, I preceded towards the old shop.

I wasn't completely surprised to see Chad and his dad, hanging out by the office, looking jaded, and slightly bored.

Mr. Danforth looked a lot like Chad – same natural dark skin, dark eyes. He obviously had a few more wrinkles and lifelines then Chad, but overall, you could tell they were related. Well, except their hair – Mr. Danforth's hair was pretty natural compared to Chad's. Then again, Chad's hair was barbaric – there are no words to describe the massive laziness behind what caused such a mop to form…

Chad noticed me before his dad did, beckoning me over.

Mr. Danforth finally recognized me as I approached the two. "Troy, wow, it's been awhile."

"Mr. Danforth, same to you. How've you been?"

He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Same old, same old. Working on cars." He overlooked my clothing. "You look like you're ready to work yourself."

I chuckled, exchanging glances with Chad, who looked a little curious himself. "Uh… actually… I have a lot on my mind. If you have anything I could work on, that'd be so great right now…"

Mr. Danforth raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Well… it's nice of you to stop by and offer your help but…" His eyes met his son's. "We're actually out of work. Had one car to work on this morning and it was pretty easy, only took an hour or two…" He seemed sorry, almost as if he understood my situation. But he didn't – he had no clue.

"I think we have some parts to scrap back there. C'mon, man." Chad cut his father off, a meaningful look in his eyes. I didn't bother asking what he was talking about. He grabbed me by the arm, pulling me into the garage.

Mr. Danforth didn't follow us – father and son seemed to be on the same level.

I _knew _there were no 'parts to scrap' – hell, parts were important. You never scrapped parts! This was some code lingo Chad made up. He knew something was wrong with me. I never came, begging for work.

"What's going on?" Chad gave me visual concern, as he kept his voice down low.

Chad usually wasn't the type to ask me what was going on – he knew I liked to keep to myself. But desperately seeking work was going above and beyond my normal level of insanity. And Chad knew that. I always consumed myself in basketball and school. If neither of those worked, I must have lost my mind.

Plus I probably looked like shit – my hair kind of resembled what you'd look like if you just got out of bed. The worst part was I did take a shower. I just couldn't get all that gel and shit out of my hair from the night before. It looked like a damn rat's nest. Then my clothes were just worn and sloppy. I looked skinny, like I hadn't eaten in weeks. And I've been avoiding the gym… which probably wasn't helping my case. Oh, not to mention I hadn't shaved yet, so I had stubble – irritating the fuck out of me.

"Nothing." I was stubborn as usual, but Chad should have expected that.

"I heard about Sharpay." Chad frowned. "Please tell me you aren't actually _going there_."

Chad never really cared for Sharpay. Sure, the two found common ground when Sharpay and I dated – they had to. But even then, Chad always made sneer comments whenever I asked for advice. He didn't think Sharpay was a good person or good for me in particular. They always clashed – Chad being such a humble person, while Sharpay was so conceited and presumptuous. The two were like day and night and it made sense why they didn't get along.

"What about Gabriella?" Chad's tone changed.

The first time Chad found out that I had a crush on Gabriella, he kind of taunted me about it, like the rest of the guys. But after a while, he kind of adapted to it, and then grew a liking for it. I guess it had something to do with the way he fell for Taylor. He constantly mentioned that Gabriella and Taylor were one in the same – that if they met, they would become best friends. Maybe Chad just wanted someone to double date with. I wasn't sure, but he was now definitely on Team Gabriella. And I had no idea why.

"I don't think it's going to work out." My voice became hoarse at the thought. God, I sounded like a little girl.

I had to turn around and not look at Chad in the eyes – he was far too intimidating right now. I really didn't want to think about Gabriella. That was the reason I came here – to escape.

"Troy, are you serious?" Chad was completely offended. "Why not?"

I hated that question. It was completely obvious. "Because. I don't have the time or the-"

"Commitment. Yeah, whatever. That's such bull and you know it." Chad cut me off.

It was bull. I had the time and the commitment. Hell, lately I've been making both. I was just a jackass, which was all. And I was too emotionally immature to handle someone as wonderful as Gabriella.

"You care about her, Troy. Everybody knows it," Chad reminded me. "Don't be stupid. Don't let her go."

"Pretty sure she's already gone. I've fucked up again and again…" Venting wasn't my favorite thing, but for once, it felt better to just give in to someone. And thank God it was Chad and no one else – before Sara and Augustus came into my life, Chad was the only one who had ever seen me broken. So Chad knew me better than anyone else. And it was less embarrassing around him.

"It's never too late." Chad shook his head. "I've got faith in you, man. Gabriella seems different than those other girls. She's a lot like Tay. She'd be good for you."

It was true – Gabriella was good for me. Far too good for me. She made me feel whole again, she comforted me when things got rough. And she didn't even realize it. Everything was a blur but the only thing that stayed stationary was Gabriella. She was generous and kind and she had a big heart. I was falling so hard for her that I wondered if I ever really _loved _before, but that word was so hard to digest. It seemed irrational. And the last thing I wanted to do was scare her off. I was trying to take my time, to go slow with her. Never before did I get butterflies and talk gibberish and get all wrapped up over one kiss. Damn, I was becoming like Chad, and I hated it.

"I'll try, man." That was all I could give Chad. False hope.

Chad patted me on the shoulder. "See, I knew you had it in you. And when you do make the move, I'd like to meet her personally. Me and the guys would – we've talked about it."

Talked about it? Damn, I was becoming such a softy. And they were all making fun of me behind my back. They could see right through me.

The garage was filled with silence as I scratched the back of my head, looking around, trying to avoid Chad's comment. It seemed like a big step – introducing Gabriella to the guys. Hell, Gabriella was obviously mad at me right now… she had to be. And if she found out about Sharpay and me, then there was no way. Again, she deserved better than that. We may have not been committed but I should have respected her enough to not sleep around. I could tell Gabriella wasn't the type to date several people at once – she was a _good _girl, she wasn't like the other girls I've been on dates with. Then again, I haven't been on that many dates. This kind of threw me off momentarily. I rarely went on dates…

Our short-lived quietude was interrupted by Chad's father, walking into the garage. "Hey guys, we've got a customer." Chad raised an eyebrow in response, looking over towards me. We were both pretty surprised, but we shouldn't have been. It was only about two o'clock in the afternoon – why wouldn't we have a customer.

Immediately, we headed towards the office. An old Oldsmobile was parked out in the front, an older woman waiting patiently at the office. Her expression was intolerant, as if she had been waiting for quite some time. Noticeable wrinkles strung across her forehead, along with the stretches across her neck.

Chad signaled me towards the office.

Mr. Danforth was letting us take care of the customer this time, evidently.

"Good afternoon, miss. What can we do to help you?" Chad's voice was something different than usual – much politer, much more businesslike.

I was a little amused but I kept my snickering to myself.

The woman didn't seem affected, only further irritated. "My car. My engine light's been on for about a century. Came here the other day and they said something about the sensors were bad. I'm gonna need one of you to fix them." She was digging through her purse, as if searching for some money.

Chad shot me a nervous glimpse, and then focused back on the elderly woman. "Uh, mah'm. You don't need to pay us now – save that for after we fix it."

"OK, well where should I park my car?"

"Just give us the keys; we'll take care of it for you." Chad offered; the same hospitable tone in his voice.

I headed towards the garage, Mr. Danforth giving me a sly wink, as if saying, "Go get her done."

I wasn't very skilled when it came to cars, but Chad knew his shit pretty well. So I was pretty confident we'd be able to figure it out without Mr. Danforth's input.

In a minute, Chad was backing into the garage in the ancient, maroon-red Oldsmobile. When he got out of the car, he looked extremely self-assured. I already knew he had a plan.

"Alright first is first, we unscrew the sensor from the exhaust pipe…" Chad was working in his own pace, barely even noticing that I was still there.

Like he was my teacher, I stood back and watched as he began working on the car – like he knew it better than the back of his hand. The guy was truly talented and dexterous when it came to cars. One day, he could pretty much open his own shop up like his dad and make thousands of dollars, I was convinced.

"Make sure you're using the right wrench," Chad lectured.

He was fast and efficient, made me feel like a complete moron, not knowing what the hell was going on.

"This lady could have had some guy do this so much cheaper, but I get it you know… she seemed pretty cranky, like she has no one to help her." He added in, absentmindedly.

I thought about his comment for a second. It was true – there were a lot of people who had aged and just let go of their friendships in life, becoming lonely and all by themselves. This lady obviously had no one to rely on, no children or younger adults, sons or grandsons who could help her with her car. That was seemingly pathetic. I hoped that I would never be that oppressed when I was old. But with the path I've been leading, it'd be no surprise. I often pushed away the one's that truly cared about me. I couldn't trust anyone, or so I thought. I mistreated everyone and treated them like shit. You'd think I'd learn after Augustus and them fucked around with me enough, I'd learn to treat others with respect and not blame them for my own actions. But I did. I blamed them for everything – I took all my anger and rage out on them. Especially Gabriella. And I was regretting it every minute, every fucking second of this day.

"Troy? The repair works done…" Chad was looking at me, worriedly as he stepped away from the car.

It barely took long. I was just too lost in my own thoughts to realize that Chad was finished.

I walked out with him, back to the office. The lady was sitting in one of the chairs, knitting something, maybe a sweater. Her mind was obviously employed by the clothing in front of her. Mr. Danforth was nowhere to be found.

"All done." Chad went up to the cash register to confirm the payment, while the lady got up and started digging change out of her purse again.

I watched her, the strangest sadness overpowering me. What the hell was so sad about this old lady? That she was so forlorn and lost? That whatever was left was gone? Her family must have been dead or didn't want to have anything to do with her? The thoughts left me hanging on a string – wondering if she regretted this decision, the decision of being solitaire for the rest of her existence, even if it wasn't that long.

Minutes later, after the transaction, Chad approached me. "My dad already left. Guess I'm closing tonight. My mom's cooking some spaghetti tonight – she cooks it pretty good. Wanna come over for dinner, Hoops?"

Although lately, I hadn't spent a lot of time at Chad's, the idea seemed favorable. Chad's family was always welcoming with me, I've known them since I was a kid. At one point in time, when my mom was around, we all would spend holidays together, and birthdays and anniversaries. It was a never-ending bond and I hated that when my mom left, those times would never come back.

I got into my truck and decided to head over to Chad's, needing to get away from my house for a while, as always. Plus, spending time with someone else's family seemed alright. Especially when I was still going crazy over the way I treated Gabriella. And then, the Sharpay situation. She was still leaving me text messages about the other night – baffled on why in the world I wasn't responding to her. Her obsessiveness kind of drove me away. I didn't want to talk to her about it and I was dreading school on Monday – knowing the topic would come up.

Chad's house was easily a distraction from the real world. I parked my truck and trailed in behind Chad, the smell of delicious spaghetti teasing my senses. Although I was filthy and so was Chad, Chad still gave his Mom a peck on the cheek as we headed towards the backyard, eager to play some basketball before dinner.

Guess that wasn't much of a shock.

"You wanna crash here tonight, man? You seem really out of it." Chad noted as he let the basketball go through the hoop strings. He seemed proud about his achievement, but a smile never showed.

I never vented to Chad about my dilemmas. At least, not lately. That didn't mean he wasn't aware. I could tell he knew I was a mess, that I looked like shit and hadn't gotten any sleep lately. He always asked me about why I fell asleep in class so much at school, often leading to Darbus riding my ass. Even though I never answered, never gave him my real reason, Chad still held sympathy towards me. And I hated it. He was my best friend though, practically a brother to me, even though he didn't know my secrets. He was always there for me – didn't question my problems, but did his best to help me solve them. Even if he was just prolonging them for a few hours.

"Thanks man that sounds great. I can't sleep at my house for the life of me – my dad and his girlfriend are always arguing nowadays," That was the furthest thing from the truth, but Chad seemed to understand it.

It felt good to escape from my problems by sitting at the table with the Danforth's one night – seeing the way a family _supposed_ to be. However, it still knitted at me, making me realize that my family was so far off from being normal. That my life was so demented and I only wished to have a functional family, where there was a mother and a father – rather than a psycho who wanted to ruin my life.

By time I headed down to Chad's basement and resided on the couch, I was so tired. My brain wasn't even operating. I couldn't obsess about my problems, my pain. In a second, I was back in my nightmares.

Monday was kind of my own personal prison as I woke up feeling like I had no sleep whatsoever. It wasn't a new feeling – just something I grown accustomed to.

I woke up on Chad's couch which didn't help the matter. My back was so sore, along with the rest of my body. I was filthy from being in the shop with Chad yesterday. Even though I barely helped him, I still managed to get dirt on all my clothes. Although I'm normally a guy of pretty good hygiene, today was definitely my exception. And taking a shower at someone else's house was just too uncomfortable.

Luckily, I had some extra clothes in my junky truck so I threw them on. Exasperated, I thanked Chad for the place to stay and headed to school.

It then dawned on me everything that happened the past weekend. And I had no urge to even come to class.

I went to my important classes mostly, and avoided the classes that hit too close to home – especially the ones where I'd run into Sharpay or Gabriella. I felt like such a moron for avoiding my usual pathways just so I wouldn't have to face either one.

Even at lunch, I had no desire to walk into the lunchroom. Although I knew Chad and the guys would harass me later, I dipped out, heading to the gym to put my focus on basketball for once. Lately, I've been so irritated; I could barely get the basketball in the hoop. And the tournament wasn't that far away.

Only about two weeks now – it was the end of September, almost the beginning of October. Time obviously was flying by fast and even Darbus' projects were due today.

_Today_.

Dammit, I completely paled as I headed towards Drama Arts. I was debating on whether I should skip the class or just go and face my demons. But when I saw a familiar brunette approach her locker nearby, unloading her books and getting some others, I knew I couldn't. My heart was already racing in my chest and I felt sick to my stomach. No way in hell could I face her. I had betrayed her in a way, even though I never really had her. How could I lose something I never had? I wasn't sure, but I knew if I even stood a _chance _on having her, that was totally blown now.

And I was too embarrassed to accept it. So I decided to be in denial, how I often lived my life, like a closed book.

So I headed towards the gym again. I was going to let her down by not being there for her, not being a part of the project even though I invested a lot of time into it. She could do it by herself, I had faith in her. She could pretty much do anything when it came to school – she was a genius.

My mind completely taken away by her, I managed to run right into the other person I was attempting to avoid – Sharpay Evans. I knew it was her. My eyes weren't looking where I was going and I obviously paid no heed to my destination – yet here I was, fucked, no surprise.

"Troy." There was a sort of malice when she said my name, and I knew she was probably angry with me.

"Shar." I decided to cut it short.

She looked… fabulous. Of course. Her hair was down, in its fresh dark color and fell passed her shoulders. Curls everywhere creating a forest around her face. I finally found her golden eyes and hesitated on my choice of words.

"I tried to get a hold of you this weekend." She was now folding her arms, looking impatient for a response. "After Zeke's, you kind of left me hanging."

"No I didn't." I answered boldly, noticing the amount of eyes from afar that were now on the two of us. Probably already starting rumors. "I told you, Sharpay. Things aren't going to change between us."

"What? Because of _her_? She doesn't even like you. Obviously." Sharpay's words were cutting – as other students kind of gasped at her confession. She was probably right, but I hated admitting that. "How pathetic, Troy. You're Troy Bolton and you're pining over a geeky science girl who probably doesn't even like you!"

Others looked ashamed for me, like I was supposed to be embarrassed about this. Of course, I was nothing short of humiliated. But Sharpay was getting on my bad side and this wasn't supposed to be war. Not between me and her. I wanted things to be cool between us, to always stay neutral. She was the first girl I truly fell for. Couldn't she at least _try _to be less of an antagonist? I knew she was good at starting problems between people, and even worse, ruining relationships, but I didn't want to keep meddling with her about it.

"You have a better chance with me, and you know it. We could make it work," Sharpay was now practically begging, and I was suddenly feeling sorry for her rather than myself.

"Sharpay, you should get to Darbus'. I'm going to the gym. I told you, things aren't going to work." Those were my final words; I couldn't stand this debate anymore.

I had far worse problems than winning an argument with Sharpay. Everybody knew that mission was impossible. Sharpay never backed down from an argument – she was always right.

I turned from her, not once looking back as I headed towards the gym. I could hear her scoff from my words, and then she turned around, her heels clicking against the hallway as she headed back to Drama Arts. She knew I was skipping class and she was probably going to tattle on me. I could have cared less though – I only had one prerogative right now: getting things off of my mind.

The gym was so quiet right now, so remote. The lights were dimmed so I found one of the switches to turn them back on. We didn't have practice tonight so I didn't have any interruptions to worry about. Since I was the captain of the basketball team, I had fewer restrictions to the court than any other team member. Another words, had I wanted to practice – I could practice whenever I wanted. I had a key to the locker room. My dad was the coach at one point, which meant Lautner had to mind me just a little bit. Even if he was as strict as could be during practice, he was much more pliable with me then the rest of the members. He also knew I was the more dedicated and I would practice in the gym when no one was watching.

I didn't bother changing into my usual gym clothes; instead I just played across the court, like I was playing during the tournament. I imagined the audience going wild with applause as I leaded the entire team to victory, heading towards the basket. I entertained myself with this illusion for quite some time, not counting the minutes, or even hour that passed by.

I should have known I wasn't alone. I should have been able to pick up the silhouette by the door, but I was far too engrossed in my pretend game. And when I missed the basket several times, I cursed underneath my breath. I couldn't function, not with so much on my plate.

And when I stopped, sweating dripping from my forehead to the end of my chin, I knew it was her standing there. To anyone else, she was just a bystander, someone you wouldn't notice in the crowd. Hell, it took me until junior year to even figure out that she existed. Maybe I was just blind and didn't pay heed to the important students in the class. Or maybe I was just ignorant and couldn't see beauty until it knocked me off my feet and I was lying on the ground.

To me, Gabriella Montez was probably the most beautiful girl in school. I was completely wrapped up and mesmerized by her, just by the little things. But right now, she was fighting a war inside of her; I could see that by her angry expression. She was mad at _me_, and I totally understood why.

I was so damn neurotic just taking in her expression. She actually scared the shit out of me, which confused me. I've never been scared of a girl, but she looked like she was ready to smack me across the face any second. And she should have – I deserved it.

It took a minute of looking into her eyes for her to finally approach me, the storm being put on hold just momentarily. I knew she couldn't hold in her feelings any longer – I knew she was ready to explode on me.

"Really?" That was the only thing she asked, as her eyes burned holes into my skin.

My throat dried and I couldn't find the words to say, though my heart was hammering against my chest. "Gabby…" I began, using that same nickname I did before.

"Don't call me that." She snapped, venomously.

I swallowed. I was such a dumbass.

"Gabriella, please listen to me…"

"Oh shut the hell up, Troy. I just did that whole project _by myself_. I actually had to improvise! Improvise! I had no idea what I was doing. But I did it. And I'm pretty sure everybody was making fun of me the whole time. So thanks."

Yeah, she was definitely upset.

We were only inches away, and even through her tornado of delirium, I could only think about her lips again. And the way they tasted in her kitchen the other night. And what it would be like to have _her _in bed with me. Fuck Sharpay. I wanted Gabriella, and I wanted all of Gabriella. Desperately.

"You know, I was so wrong about you Troy Bolton. I thought you were some nice guy, somebody so humble and down-to-earth, but turns out you're just like everybody else. You're an asshole, a selfish asshole. You think avoiding me was going to make things better? Like I _care_ that you almost slept with your ex-girlfriend? Like I'm going to scream at you and tell you that you were out of line. Do you even know me… at all?"

Her words weren't exactly like I expected. She was upset, yeah. But I realized there was a far bigger reason. It wasn't because I almost had sex with Sharpay – it was because I _assumed _Gabriella would be upset about it, that she would become flustered over it, like I was something to rave about. She looked at me like I was some arrogant bastard who figured Gabriella was head-over-heels and wanted to claim me for herself. When the truth was that I wasn't arrogant at all. If anything, it was my insecurities that told me to run away from her – because I was afraid to look at her and see the disappointment in her face. It was because I didn't want her to look at me and think that I was just some player like they all made me out to be. I wanted to be respected by her, to be someone important to her. I wanted to impress her so fucking bad. And maybe that was my greatest downfall – I was trying so hard.

"Troy, it's your life and your call – I don't give a shit if you have sex with Sharpay or whoever for that matter. You and I are not involved. So don't run away from me, acting like I'm going to go crazy on you."

"That's not… why I've been avoiding you." I muttered, still flinching a little from the fire that was coruscating in her beautiful brown eyes.

"Then _why_? Because you know, I am a little hurt, but that's just because I know I'm not Sharpay. I'm not blonde, or tall, or any of the following. Yes, I spend my days cooped up in the Chemistry lab but and I don't do theater… I'm not a freakin' goddess, or anything, like you said I was. And yes, I may be a lot like the other girls - dreaming about the day that Troy Bolton looks at _me _the way he looks at Sharpay. But I'm not going to sit here and be mad at you for it." Gabriella's voice cracked at her confession and she backed up, turning her face away from me.

For some reason, her implying she wasn't half as beautiful as Sharpay just hurt me so bad. She was so wrong – she was so much more beautiful than Sharpay, inside and out. Sure, the girls were different in so many ways. But Gabriella was the one that I knew I was falling in love with. Sharpay was just a thing of the past, something I spent a decent amount of time on that just didn't work out. And sometimes no matter how many times you try and work something out, it's still meant to fail.

Gabriella was crying and I knew she was trying to be so strong. She didn't want to fall apart in front of me – she was so independent and wasn't the type of girl to break into pieces. God, I felt like an asshole. I just wanted to make everything okay for her – the way she made things for me.

I moved closer to her, just to find her face again. She tried again to move away from me, but I cupped her face, to where I could see the tears forming in her eyes. She swallowed thickly, looking straight at me. Lost for a second in her turmoil, my thoughts were jumbled and all I wanted to do was hold her and tell her how I _really _felt. But I knew that was too much.

"Gabriella," I could pretty much hear my own words crack, like I was some broken record, like I always saw myself as. It was perfect irony how I was falling apart myself, just because she was. Everything she was feeling reflected and I couldn't bear to see her this way. "Don't _ever_ compare yourself with Sharpay. You're absolutely stunning, you hear me?"

She fought me, trying to move her face away again but I only steadied her even more. "Gabby, please. I promise I'm not lying to you. I know I'm a moron – I know I've fucked up, again and again. And it was such a mistake to even _think _about Sharpay that way. I messed up, and I realized it when you called me that night. I felt like such an ass, I had to get out of there; I had to get away from Sharpay. I was just hurt because I thought you were hiding something from me – like you hated me."

I shook my head. "But that's not what's important – there's no excuse for me being a total dickhead to you. I never thought that you were crazy about me; I always thought you felt the opposite about me, and that you thought I was just some dumbass who couldn't take control of his feelings, which is kind of the truth actually… I should learn to control my anger."

"I've been embarrassed, Gabriella. I'm so embarrassed that you found out because all I ever wanted to do was impress you, not have you think of me as some slime-ball who goes out and sleeps with everybody. I'm not that guy anymore – not since I met you. You're just… an amazing girl. I've really fallen for you," My words were getting disarrayed as I tried to find the right ones to say. I wanted to say everything perfect, just for once; I didn't want to fuck up what I was saying.

Gabriella didn't move, she stayed motionless as I continued to look into her eyes, spilling my heart out like I've never spilled it before.

"You've lied to me…" She whispered, so quiet, as if she didn't want me to hear. "About so many things."

"I know…" I hated myself for this. "I just wanted you to like me, Gabriella. And I know how cheesy and stupid this sounds, but Chad always told me I was going to find a girl that would change my world. And I didn't believe him – until I met you."

Gabriella seemed to unwind when I said these words, her body was so stiff and motionless for a few minutes, but now, her expression was poignant, like she didn't know what to say. Like my words touched her maybe. And that comforted me so much.

Her brown eyes sparkled in the dimness of the gymnasium.

"You mean that?" She asked, her voice frayed and so hoarse. It looked like she was going to cry again.

"One hundred percent. One hundred and _twenty _percent actually." I tried to joke, my smile just forced.

"And I'm sorry I wasn't there for the project – I'm sorry I fell asleep the other night. God, I just… feel like such an idiot and I have no idea what I can say to make it up to you." I blabbered on like a fool.

But Gabriella knew an instant way to shut me up.

One minute I was going on about my feelings, the next she puts her lips to mind, silencing me and taking me to a better place. With some kind of refuge, I give into her lips, getting lost in her like I did the night before. Something about her just got me every time and I was so relieved she wasn't mad at me. _So _relieved I could just jump for joy, like a complete dumbass.

It was as if we were the only two people in the world.

* * *

END OF CHAPTER

**A/N: **Hello! Yes I still live after all these years. *Groan. So I'm on summer vacation and I'm actually moving-to Florida! Woohoo. So excited for new opportunities and a new life. I've always grown up in a hick-town where there's nothing to do. (Gives me a lot of writing opportunities also though, daydreaming is my favorite hobby!) Anyways, sorry to make this chapter so _long_, things will get pretty eventful from here on. Mostly we're going to move forward with Troy&Gabriella's new found relationship. And of course, the closer they get, the more Gabriella wonders about his deep dark secret. Hehe guess that makes me kind of evil for leaving you hanging. I was going to make Troy get all angry with Gabriella and her admit she looked through his phone but I decided against it. Troy needs to stop being so angry lol. He is very damaged though and I love his character because I can do a lot of things with him... Oh, and did anyone catch the dirty part about him in the shower? Yeah, he may have been having a little bit too much fun if you know what I mean. (I'm kind of a dirty minded person... :P) Anyways, with so many followers and favorites, I'm really hoping to get more than 3 reviews if that's OK with you. It'll motivate me to update more. I love you all... please leave me some responses :)


End file.
